SF Books by B. V. Larson:

The Star Runner Series:

Star Runner

Fire Fight

Rebel Fleet Series:

Rebel Fleet

Orion Fleet

Alpha Fleet

Earth Fleet

Star Force Series:

Swarm

Extinction

Rebellion

Conquest

Army of One (Novella)

Battle Station

Empire

Annihilation

Storm Assault

The Dead Sun

Outcast

Exile

Demon Star

Starship Pandora (Audio Drama)

Visit BVLarson.com for more information.

ICE WORLD

(2nd Edition)

(Undying Mercenaries Series #16)

by

B. V. Larson

The Undying Mercenaries Series:

Steel World

Dust World

Tech World

Machine World

Death World

Home World

Rogue World

Blood World

Dark World

Storm World

Armor World

Clone World

Glass World

Edge World

Green World

Ice World

Illustration © Tom Edwards TomEdwardsDesign.com

Copyright © 2021 by Iron Tower Press, Inc.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

“The people must fight for their laws just as hard as they do for their city walls.”

–Heraclitus, 502 BC

-1-

The Green World campaign ended with a bang, and I was glad it was over. The city of Central had suffered some serious damage—including my daughter’s first death. That was the hardest part for me and my family to get over.

Normally, death was no big deal in the McGill clan. All of us had died and been revived—but this time it wasn’t routine. Not only was Etta young and emotionally unprepared, but she came back… different.

Sensing she didn’t fit in, the girl had left Central City and gone off to live with her grandfather on Dust World. Many months had passed since then, but we’d finally gotten word she was back on Earth and coming down from the north to visit. The family was all smiles, but we weren’t totally comfortable about the situation. My mother wouldn’t stop fussing about it right down to the last minute.

“James,” my mother said to me while we were waiting for Etta to arrive, “don’t you say anything wicked to that girl today.”

“Don’t worry, Momma. It won’t happen.”

She turned on my dad next, and she gave him a baleful look. “Not one negative word. That goes double for you, John.”

“What’d I do?” my dad protested.

“You were thinking it. The last time she was down here in Georgia, the air was thick with disapproval.”

“If you just spoil the girl and don’t tell her what people are thinking, you’re inviting—"

My momma’s finger came up. It was a stern, stiff thing, and I could tell you she meant business when she lifted it. “I’m damn near a century old now, and I don’t care to spend the rest of eternity with no one to visit me on Thanksgiving.”

Dad muttered something, but I couldn’t make out what it was. “All right. I won’t say a thing.”

Momma continued to eye both of us with suspicion. She was a trust-but-verify kind of lady.

The problem had all begun a year back, when Etta had begun to… act out. She’d never been an easy-going girl, but now she seemed to be a little smaller and a little meaner than before. She’d ambushed Galina the last day before she left, and I was still hearing about it.

After she’d left to go stay with her grandpa on Dust World, they’d gotten up to some strange goings-on out there. No one quite knew what they were working on, not even me.

But although she’d left Earth behind, she hadn’t stopped getting into trouble. Somehow, being stewed up genetically from a half-dozen sources had left her in a state of being one-third me, one-third her mother Della… and another third that was mysterious.

The Investigator had claimed he’d used Natasha Elkin’s DNA to finish the rough spots in her genes… but it seemed to all of us now it wasn’t that simple. I’d come to believe he’d used his imagination to finish some of it, because Etta wasn’t like Natasha. One would think Natasha’s genes would have settled Etta down some, but it hadn’t worked out that way. She was even wilder these days than she had been before she’d died.

I felt bad for my daughter. She’d never had much chance of coming out normal in the head. Just having me and her mother Della in the mix was bad enough. We were two infamously ornery people. But that extra dash of salt… it was causing a new kind of trouble.

I tried to ditch all these negative thoughts. From the very first day Etta had announced she was coming home to visit, my momma had become damned-well determined to make her feel welcome and comfortable. I told myself I owed it to everyone to give the girl her shot.

Pop and I glanced at one another. We were both kind of worried.

“There she is,” Momma shouted from the window. “See that aircar? That’s got to be her.”

“Don’t know why the kid can’t just rent a tram from the airport like regular people,” my dad complained.

Instantly, a sharp set of knuckles smacked him in the belly.

“What was that for, woman?” he demanded.

“No negativity. Put a sock in it. She caught a ride from James’ old friend, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Dad grumbled something unintelligible, but he soon shut up. 

We left the house and walked outside. Soon, we were all standing in the backyard—the big yard between my shack and my parents’ old farmhouse.

Normally, aircars were a rare sight down here in Waycross, but our neighbors had gotten used to seeing such gleaming vehicles gliding over the swamp and landing on a clearing just to the north of the house. Usually, Galina Turov was the one driving those sleek machines—but not today.

“I don’t get why Carlos has an aircar,” my dad said.

My mom’s hand twitched, but she didn’t slap him this time. After all, he was bitching about Carlos now. That man was fair game by anyone’s standards.

“That seems a little odd to me, too,” she admitted. She eyed me. “James, that pug of a man isn’t interested in your daughter, is he?”

I laughed. “I doubt it. He’s about six times her age.”

“That never stopped you.”

Shrugging, I didn’t argue because I couldn’t. “Yeah… probably not. He knows I’d kill him—and it would be a bad death, too.”

This seemed to satisfy my mom, but not my dad.

“I still don’t get how an ex-legionnaire suddenly starts to flash around a big wad of credits and buy fancy things.”

“Well… I don’t know about that, either. He might be working odd jobs for Central. I’ve done that in the past for extra money.”

“Don’t remind me…”

“All right, shut up,” Momma said as the aircar dropped out of the sky. “Here they come.”

The aircar landed with singing jets and puffs of exhaust. The landing was quicker and more dangerous-looking than when Galina did it. She always landed with a dainty settling of the aircraft, while Carlos looked like he was sweeping in to drop off an invasion team. The car bounced and scarred up a black hole in the grass.

“He’s gonna suck a bush into his air intake vents if he’s not careful,” my dad said.

Once the vehicle was safely down with all four skids on the ground, we approached and smiled. The doors popped open, and a girl bounced out of the passenger side.

For a single second—no, not even that long, it was more of a split-second—I didn’t recognize her.

She had longer hair and tan skin. Worse than that, she didn’t move the way I remembered. It was more like she was Etta’s sister—a sister that had never been born.

Naturally, I shoved all that nonsense right down flat. I threw my arms wide—which is pretty damned wide, as I have wings like a condor—and I grinned like a fool.

Etta ran to me and jumped into my embrace. After a good long hug, I handed her off to my parents, who mauled her in a similar fashion.

In her wake came Carlos. He looked kind of… fat. Way fatter than he had been a year ago, at least. He stumped around to the trunk and took out a stack of dusty bags. He carried these toward the family, and he looked this way and that curiously.

“So… this is it?” he asked me. “This is what you killed to keep secret?”

“My place was never any secret.”

“You never brought me out here to meet the family before, did you? You just drink in town with me when I come down here. I’m not good enough for your real home, am I?”

“I guess not.”

We grinned and shook hands.

“Thanks for bringing my girl down from Central, Carlos. The gateway posts are cheap to use, but door-to-door service like this comes at a premium.”

He nodded and turned to point at his aircar. “Isn’t she a beauty? I just can’t get over how much fun this thing is to drive.”

“I bet.”

Soon, my parents dragged Etta away toward the house, while I naturally slipped away toward my shack. Carlos followed me, as he was more my friend than a friend of the family.

He stood on the creaking floorboards of my sagging porch and made a big show of being nervous. “I can only imagine the regret women feel stepping over this threshold. It kind of gives me a chill just to think about it.”

“You want a damned beer or not?”

He finally shut up and stopped trash-talking. I gave him a beer for each fist and opened a couple for myself. He drank his with gusto.

“What have you got to sit on besides that crusty couch?” he demanded. “I’m not going near that thing.”

“Here,” I said, dragging a rocking chair in off the porch. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

He sat in the chair, and we bullshitted about the legion for a while. It was always the same when I met up with another of my kind while the legion wasn’t deployed. We talked shop and drank. What else was there to do?

At last, after we’d both had a few, Carlos leaned forward and studied my stained carpet. “McGill,” he said at last, “I didn’t just come down here to do you a favor.”

“Aw no… here it comes. You’re broke, aren’t you? I told you aircar payments were just the beginning. There’s insurance, maintenance, registration, special flight-fees—”

He glanced up and gave me a sly grin. “That’s the opposite of my problem, McGill. How’d you like to make some money? A whole lot of money?”

I blinked at him, and my grin faded into a frown. What the hell was he talking about? My fertile mind invented a dozen scenarios—and none of them were good.

-2-

Carlos and I were in a pretty good mood after the first dozen beers were done and gone.

“You know I quit Legion Varus, right?” he told me. “That I resigned? For reals?”

“Of course I know. But what’s this business about making a lot of money? Are the payments on that aircar killing you?”

He laughed. “Hardly. I paid cash for it. Tapper-to-tapper, no loans, no bullshit.”

“Huh…”

An aircar was a big chunk of change for a legionnaire. Some of us were pretty smart. Some of us had investments and whatnot. Being a long-lived man, you could stack up quite a bit if you worked at it—but neither Carlos nor I were that kind of guy.

“Well, how did you blow your savings then?” I asked. “Why do you need more money? You could always become a hog or something if you need to make ends meet.”

“Bite your tongue,” he said. “I’ll never be a hog—but we can still make some good money working for them now and then.”

So that was it. Carlos was doing contract work for Central. I’d gone down that route before, and it had always turned out badly. Always.

“I don’t know… I don’t want to get into some casting device and fly out to another ball-frying or perming session.”

“This isn’t like that. It’s… unofficial.”

He had my eyes narrowing in suspicion now. “What are you hinting around about? Are you doing tricks for the brass or something?”

He rolled his eyes at me. “Okay, look. I’ve got a source of cash. A secret source.”

“A secret source of money? Sounds like you must be selling stuff to Claver or something.”

Carlos looked furtive. He didn’t meet my eye.

“Wait… seriously? Claver? Are you out of your mind?”

“I didn’t say it was Claver… not exactly. Claver was involved at one point, but he’s out now. It was a good guess, though.”

Totally confused, I felt my mouth sag open and my eyes get squinty. “I think you should either fess-up or get out.”

He sighed. “Okay, okay. Remember when we were on Tech World? Tau Ceti?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, we met up with Claver for the first time back then. Do you remember him having a whole lot of money?”

We stared at each other for several long seconds. “Are you shitting me?” I asked him at last. “You’re talking about those Galactic coins, aren’t you? The big gold wheels? They’ve been illegal forever.”

“That didn’t seem to bother the Tau any, did it? Anyway… I might have kept a few. For souvenirs, you see?”

I shouted with laughter and downed half my beer in a gulp. Then I threw the bottle at the trash can. It hit the wall with a splintering crash, but most of the shards made it down into the can. It was one of those smart cans, so it started buzzing and sweeping around itself with little plastic arms.

“You mean to tell me that you stole some of that illegal money? And you kept it secret all these years?”

“Yeah…” he said. “I couldn’t very well go off and spend it at some casino or something, could I? I kept the coins, and when the time was right, I cut out of the legion and cashed in a few of them.”

“Holy Moses. I don’t believe this.”

“Believe it.”

“All right, all right,” I said wrapping my brain around the situation. “So why are you bothering me? You’ve got a buyer, obviously, or you couldn’t have been spending so much money lately. So what can I do for you, Mr. Money-bags? Other than keep quiet?”

“You can do that for sure, but there’s more to it. You see… I might be in a little bit of trouble.”

I slapped my knee and hooted with laughter. He frowned at me bitterly the whole time. “You screwed up! Big time, am I right? Who found out?”

“No one—at least, I don’t think anyone did. But they suspect something. There’s a snoopy pack of hogs from Central asking questions. They’ve opened an investigation.”

“Who has, exactly?”

He shook his head. “The notice I got said it was from Drusus—from his office, at least. From headquarters.”

I whistled long and low. Then I let out a belly-laugh. “You are so screwed. I can’t say that you don’t deserve it.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You want to know whose name is on the investigation announcement with me?”

“Who?”

“One funny-boy officer named James McGill.”

That got me to blinking and staring. “What? Why me?”

“Because you were in command of that squad when the coins went missing. Because you were my officer for years afterward. They must think you’re in on it.”

“Aw, come on. Drusus knows me better than that.”

“You would think. But I’m not so sure. That dude has no chill.”

I thought the situation over, and I found I didn’t like the flavor. “Carlos, this is your problem. I’m your friend, and I’ve died a dozen deaths to prove that—but you pulled this stunt all by your lonesome. You waved your dick in the face of the legions—then you stepped on it.”

“Yeah, maybe… but you’ve got to help me out. I need to make a big score, move the rest of the coins, and go off-world.”

“Why in the nine hells would I do that?”

“Because we’re squaddies, man. We’re old war buddies. Pick your war, we’ve been in all of them together.”

I shook my head. “This goes above and beyond all that. You can’t pull a favor on a deal like this.”

“All right, all right, then do it to save yourself. The hogs are coming for us both—trust me on that score. There might even be Nairbs working the case.”

That statement made my guts churn. The local Chief Inspector was a Nairb that really hated me. He had tried several times in recent campaigns to nail my hide to any wall he could find. Usually, he ended up dead somehow when he visited Earth to press one of his trumped-up cases—but he always seemed to come back for another shot at me a few years later. It was enough to make a man hate the fact that revival machines worked on aliens just as well as they worked on Earthers.

“This whole farm—or swamp-rat ranch—or whatever you call it… It’s all in danger,” Carlos was saying. “You know the Nairbs. We’ll be lucky if they keep it down to burning Waycross off the maps.”

I stood tall, and Carlos watched me with dark eyes.

“If something bad does happen,” I boomed at him, “it will all be your damned fault. You should have left that dirty money alone.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I… I got greedy. I was a kid back then… practically. Listen McGill, this isn’t about guilt or innocence or even dick-size. I need your help. Seriously.”

Grunting, I sat back down. “What do you expect me to do about it?”

His piggish eyes lit up then. He knew he had me listening.

Then, he began to explain.

-3-

Late Thursday night, I kicked Carlos out of my place. I told him he was four-star crazy and needed his brain regrown. I also told him I’d think about his predicament—our predicament.

He left in good spirits, but I couldn’t help being bothered. Carlos knew me almost as well as I knew myself—maybe better, in some ways. His happy demeanor meant he thought he had me on the hook.

I hoped he wasn’t right—but I suspected he might be. Was I really going to look into this investigation and fix it for him? Maybe I would... Damn.

Bright and early the next morning, my tapper began buzzing. Blinking and bleary-eyed, I slapped at the damned thing to shut it off. A few moments later, it woke me up again, vibrating my arm and pissing me off.

With a grunting roar, I came up to a sitting position and rubbed my eyes.

There was a face on my tapper. A pretty one.

“Galina? What the hell is this about? Is it even dawn yet?”

“It’s ten-thirty your time.”

“Really?”

She looked even more disgusted. “Drinking again, I see? Are you alone, at least?”

“Sadly, yes.”

She frowned at me and shook herself. “All right. I believe you. I’m calling to extend an invitation to you, James McGill.”

Right off, my mind began firing off alarm bells. More than once Galina had reached out in just such a fashion when she was planning to have me arrested. She preferred to talk me into turning myself in, rather than sending goons to my shack. Trickery was much easier than dealing fairly with an ornery man such as myself.

Today, I knew there was talk of an investigation in my honor, so I was extra wary. “Uh… an invitation to what, exactly?”

“I want you to know that this is a very special opportunity. I’ve never invited anyone to my ancestral home before—never.”

“Uh… what?”

“Do I really have to spell it out?”

“That would be for the best.”

She sighed. “All right then. I’m talking about bringing you home—to my original home.”

“What for?” I asked, yawning.

“To meet my parents, of course. To meet my entire family.”

That was a stunner. Sure, I’d asked her down to my place more than once over the years. She’d even eaten a few stacks of pancakes with my folks and let my dad play around with her aircar—but she’d never even talked about her own family. I’d kind of figured they were dead and gone, what with her being older than me and all.

“You’ve got a family? Where are they?”

“In Belarus.”

“Belda what?”

She showed me her pretty, white teeth—but it wasn’t a smile. “Belarus, James. It’s a lovely place in Eastern Europe.”

“Seriously? What language do they speak out there?”

“Standard, mostly. Some still speak Russian or Romanian, of course.”

“Uh… Russian…? Oh yeah, I heard of that.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Well?”

“What?”

“Are you coming with me or not? We have to leave immediately.”

All of a sudden her sweetness had evaporated. She sure was a nice-looking woman, but she had an awful temper to go with all those looks.

I took a full second to consider the situation. I would have decided faster if I’d been fully awake. But as it was, I was still a little fuzzy in the head.

The way I saw it, a trip home to meet the parents had to involve some painful meals, awkward silences, long travel times and general boredom. On the plus-side, a man who took the time to meet a girl’s parents… well sir, there couldn’t be a more certain way to ensure some intimacy would follow at some point or another.

“Okay. I’m listening, and I’m inclined to go. I owe you after all, for all the times you’ve come down to visit my folks… but why are we going right now? I mean… isn’t this kind of sudden?”

“There’s a wedding planned. I… I have to go, and I need a date. Are you in or not?”

Damn if she wasn’t giving me the hard-sell. A more intelligent man would have felt alarmed. As it was, I wanted some coffee.

“A wedding? Are you passing me off as a boyfriend? Seriously? You and I haven’t even had dinner together for months.”

“Don’t panic. I didn’t say it was our wedding, James.”

“Whose then?” I demanded.

“My sister’s.”

“You’ve got a sister?”

“Apparently.”

I stared at my arm for another long, dumbfounded second. “Do they know anything about me?”

“Not really. But… they’ve heard of you. They might have even seen your picture a time or two…”

Suddenly, I caught on. Galina was a free-spirited woman, but maybe her parents were still holding out a candle of hope she’d settle down and turn normal, just the way mine still did about me to this very day. To that end, maybe she’d flicked a few snaps of us over the grid to them now and then, just to give them something to chew on. I was a big, decent-looking guy, after all. They couldn’t tell from a picture that I was a card-carrying moron.

“Do they even want to meet me?” I asked. “Do they know what they’re getting into?”

“Not at all. But I’m willing to take the chance. Yes or no? The clock is ticking, James.”

I hesitated. “What about that boy-toy of yours… Gary?”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s a simp. He gets nothing from me, and he wouldn’t impress my relatives at all.”

“But I would, huh?” The thought made me smile. “All right, Galina. I’m in.”

“Good. Now, gather your things and come outside. I’m waiting in the swamp in my aircar, and I’m getting hot.”

That was a shocker. “Why didn’t you just come and knock on my door like a normal person?”

“One, because you might not have been alone. Two, because people who wake you up tend to die.”

“Oh yeah… that’s true. All right, give me a second. Can I take a shower first?”

“Not now. We’re tight for time. You can do it on the transport as we pass over the polar zone.”

Groaning, I cut the feed and stood tall. I stretched, and my knuckles brushed my dingy ceiling.

“Belarus...” I said out loud. “I wonder what that’s like?”

A few minutes later I climbed into her aircar with a duffle full of mostly-dirty clothes. She wrinkled her nose at me.

“You smell like beer and body odor.”

“I told you I needed a shower.”

She cranked one of the sliding side-windows open a crack, and the wind whistled into the aircar. We were flying low and fast, sailing over countless pines in a rush. They formed a green blur under the skids. Luckily, the autopilot kept us from hitting any of them.

After a half-hour of skimming over the treetops in order to avoid getting a speeding ticket, we reached the spaceport at Atlanta. I followed her like a watchdog to the terminal, where a big pile of bags was already waiting.

“You know, you could have called and given me more warning time.”

“Yes, I know,” she admitted. “But I only just decided this morning I would attend. Things… well… things aren’t always perfectly smooth between my family and me.”

“I hear that.”

Soon, we boarded a trans-orbital flight. I was glad to see Galina pay the fare. She was being reasonable in that department at least.

About an hour later I was snoring with my mouth open. She elbowed me in the ribs. “Go take your shower.”

Grumbling, I did as she asked. The booth was a cramped one, being built for normal people, and the charge in credits was pretty high—but I did it. I was pretty sure stinky guys rarely got any action, even after a wedding reception.

After another hour of pretending to listen to her while I played with my tapper, we landed someplace called Minsk. Taking a ground vehicle, we headed south, passing a town called Slutsk. I tried to pronounce it, even though I knew I shouldn’t.

“Slut-ski?” I asked aloud. “That’s a funny name for a town.”

“No, you idiot,” Galina practically spat at me. “It’s called Slutsk—and it’s a serious place. An important town in Belarus. There have been many wars fought over this ground.”

“That’s another thing,” I said, “according to my tapper this whole area is called West Russia Sector. Are you calling the robot wrong?”

She gave me a venomous stare. “That topic has killed millions of people over the centuries, McGill. You’d best drop it.”

“Okay,” I said, shrugging. I didn’t much care anyway.

We rode farther south until we reached another town… one with an even more interesting name.

“Turov?” I demanded, pointing to a sign printed in standard. “Seriously? There’s a town named after your family?”

Galina gave me a dismissive shrug, but I could tell she was pleased. “My family is important here.”

“I guess!”

Finally, in my slug-slow brain, certain facts were beginning to piece themselves together. For some time now, I’d been aware that Galina had a secret base of support in government. I’d always thought she’d been some kind of suck-up to people out here in Europe—but what if her mysterious benefactors were her actual family members?

She’d gotten away with so much horseshit over the years. Small attempts at revolution and outright treachery dotted her resume. She’d thrown in with the squids when they invaded Earth, for example. When the Skay had come to challenge the Mogwa, she’d wanted to switch sides and worship those heartless machines. It wasn’t that she was a surrender-monkey, not exactly. It was just that she’d always seemed to be swayed by revolutionary ideas just for their own sake.

Now, none of that was super-unusual on my long-suffering Earth. Fools with big ideas came and went with great regularity over the years. But usually, when such a person made a big play and lost, they were shunned afterward.

Galina, for whatever reason, had never paid that much of a price for her fickle nature. Right now, in fact, she had her imperator insignia back on her narrow shoulders. Two gold novas on each side, glinting in the sunlight that slanted in from the west as we glided along.

“That’s why you’re here!” I said, pointing at her epaulets.

“What are you talking about now?”

“You never come back to your hometown, do you? At least you haven’t for many years.”

She pursed her lips. “It has been a while, so what?”

“That rank… you got back to the level of an imperator. That didn’t just naturally happen, did it? Someone out here pulled a string, didn’t they?”

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed sharply. “That’s not a topic I’m interested in discussing, James. If you want to share a room with me tonight, you’ll forget this wild insane idea of yours. Immediately.”

“Uh… we’re sharing a room?”

“Possibly. I haven’t decided yet.”

I smiled. “It would go pretty far toward supporting this boyfriend business you’ve cooked up for me, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would. Are you going to screw this up, or are you going to cooperate?”

“Hmm… you’ve bought my silence, Galina. I’m going to smile, glad-hand, and kiss every big ring I see while I’m out here.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

We soon arrived at what I could only call a sumptuous estate. It was outside Turov proper—the city, I mean—but it was no less grand for all that. There were big iron gates on motors, sentinel robots with old-fashioned bullet-firing rifles, and about a thousand aircars crowded on cobblestones around an ancient-looking stone fountain.

We got out and Galina took my hand. “We’re late. Hurry with me.”

We trotted up some steps and fixed our hair with our fingers. The guards let us in, apparently recognizing Galina on sight.

To my mind, when someone tells me I’m late to a wedding, that meant the holy matrimonial ceremony was in progress—that’s what being late to any such big event meant back in Waycross.

But that wasn’t the story. Instead, there was some kind of signing-in shindig going on. A series of bigwig politicians were lined up inside the mansion at ornate tables. They were signing things while servants wearing funny hog formals were passing them from one bigwig to the next.

I watched them, trying hard to keep my mouth shut. Each of the political-types signed the same computer scroll using a stylus. The weird thing was each guy only made part of a signature—like one letter’s worth—then he put down the stylus and picked up another one. Then he’d use that one to write the next letter of his name.

“Huh…” I said, unable to contain my fool nature. “Why are they using more than one stick to sign each document?”

Galina whispered the answer. “They’ll give away these pens as gifts later. This legislation must be important, or they wouldn’t bother.”

“But… those aren’t even real pens. They’re just sticks, really.”

“Shut up.”

I did as I was commanded. I was out of my element and then some, and I knew it.

At last, when the signing ceremony was done, everyone present stopped taking vids with their tappers, and they clapped politely. Deciding to join in, I slammed my big hands together. A few people nearby winced and gave me that up-down glance of disgust that I knew so well.

I thought about whistling or cheering, but I held off. My sense was that Galina wouldn’t like it, and neither would anyone else in this prissy crowd.

At last, the baffling event broke up. All smiles, Galina walked up to the guy sitting at the middle table. He was lining up his phony pens, and a couple of servant-hogs were storing them in individual cases.

“Daddy?” Galina said.

That’s when my jaw dropped so low I thought it would hit the marble floor.

-4-

Mr. Turov—or Archduke Turov, or whatever the hell his title was—looked up sharply. He had white hair with a kind of Santa Claus beard going on. His eyes were old, but quick. They took in the smiling Galina and my hulking shape at her side in an instant. After a half-second appraisal, he faked a smile of his own and stood up. He hugged his daughter—briefly.

Then he turned to me. His head tilted to one side, and I realized I’d seen that dog-like cocked head many times before. Galina did it all the time.

“You must be the one they call McGill. But… you’re only a centurion? Is this possible?” He had a funny accent, one that was kind of like Galina’sf but even harder to understand.

“Uh…” I said. “Yessir, my name’s James McGill. I’m a centurion in Legion Varus, Your Highness. The best legion on Earth.”

Galina’s expression tightened, but she kept a stiff smile in place. She didn’t even look at me, she kept staring up at her daddy like he was the only thing that mattered.

“I see,” the old man said at last. He turned back to look down at his daughter. “Perhaps this explains certain mysteries, my daughter. Such as how your rank keeps fluctuating like a kite in the hands of a child.”

Galina’s eyes registered a flash of irritation, but she kept back the explosion she wanted to have right now. I knew that required a serious effort on her part. Maybe moments like this explained why she didn’t fly home all that often.

“Father, where’s my sister?” she asked finally. “I must congratulate her.”

“Of course. Sophia is in the garden working on flower arrangements or some-such nonsense.”

“I’ll go greet her, it’s great to see you again, Father.”

“The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure.”

Now, at this juncture, I figured it would be my opportunity to chat-up the old man. In the past, I’d often met with fathers of my various and sundry girlfriends. Most of them liked me—at least at first. They appreciated a man who wasn’t a weak-kneed type.

But Galina’s tiny fist closed over the first three fingers of my right hand—it was hard for a woman her size to grip my entire hand at once—and she gave me a mighty tug.

Naturally, I could have ignored this, but I didn’t. I let her pull me in her wake. Touching my hat to her bigwig father in a semblance of a salute, I hurried after Galina.

“Hey, how about I stay here and talk to your dad? I don’t mind doing it. He probably has questions for me.”

“I bet he does. That’s why we’re moving on.”

“Really? Fathers usually like me, girl. Don’t worry so much.”

“My father doesn’t like anyone. Not even himself. Stay with me and speak as little as possible.”

We headed out toward the gardens, weaving our way through a big, complicated house. There were robots and real human servants everywhere. Now and then, a hog guard stood sternly at a doorway. Passing a table spread out with a fantastic looking meal on gleaming, nanite-cleaned plates, my stomach rumbled.

“I’m hungry.”

“You’ll have to wait.”

Reaching out a long arm, I snatched a goblet of purple stuff. I downed it, and I was glad to learn it was wine of some kind. Galina never saw this, as she was hell-bent to drag my oversized carcass out the backdoor of the mansion as quickly as possible.

Soon, we were blinking in the sunset again. It was going to get dark pretty soon.

“There she is,” Galina said.

“Who?”

“My sister, you idiot.”

“Oh yeah. Is she the one in pink?”

Crossly, Galina looked up at me with instant suspicion. “How did you know that?”

I smiled. “Because she’s the prettiest girl here—except for you, of course.”

Her lips puckered for a moment. “Good answer.”

“Uh… wait a second. How come she’s so young? Her body can’t be much older than yours is, and you cheat.”

Galina scoffed. “My father was born almost a hundred and fifty years ago. Sophia is my older sister. You figure it out.”

That wasn’t hard math to do, especially for a lunkhead like me. Apparently, these upper-class types were all cheating—using revival machines to lengthen their lives to unnatural spans of time.

This seemed wrong to me on the face of it—because it was. Only legionnaires were supposed to get the benefits of revival machines. That was because we were the ones doing the fighting and dying to keep Earth solvent and safe.

But it had come to my attention over recent years that others had snaked their way into line and quietly arranged to die and return, regaining their youth and keeping their positions. There were less drastic options, of course. You could use life-stretching drugs like Cell-stim and Nu-cream, for instance. My parents bought that stuff every time they ventured into Waycross.

Those drugs were recent developments, however. If Galina’s dad really was over a century old… well… he had to have been cheating for a long, long time. That brought another question to my mind: how long had he been a public servant working the political halls of Earth? Fifty years? A hundred? How long was too long, in such a case?

Galina introduced me to Sophia then, and I let these disturbing thoughts fade from my befuddled mind.

After hugs and squeals, the two girls separated, and Sophia eyed me with interest.

“He’s even larger than I imagined,” she said with a smile.

“I sure am,” I said, and I beamed down at her.

I don’t mind telling you, Sophia wasn’t just cute, she was certifiably hot. It was a different look than Galina had. Galina was slight and shapely in a youthful way. She had a bouncy, cheerleader-look to her, and she knew I liked it. She would do downright anything to get herself killed and revived again whenever she saw a wrinkle in her bathroom mirror.

Sophia on the other hand had gone with a more mature, voluptuous look. She was plenty young and full of life, don’t get me wrong, but she definitely looked like she had more to grab onto, if you know what I mean.

We eyed each other and beamed for a full second. That’s all it took for Galina’s expression to shift.

“James, my sister Sophia is getting married tomorrow.”

“Huh? Oh… yeah. Great to meet you at last, Sophia. Galina’s talked about you so much, I feel like I already know you. It’s a real pleasure.”

“She has? This is surprising...”

“James,” Galina said in a purring tone. “I’ve just noticed that they’re serving beer at the back of the garden. I’m sure you’re thirsty after our long trip.”

“That I am, little lady.”

Catching my cue and acting on it without hesitation, I sought out the beer cart and went to town. It was kind of warm outside, being summer and all, so I didn’t even bother leaving the cart. I put one hand on the cart to lean on it, while the other was lifted high to tilt back one glass of brew after another.

Pretty soon, all I had to do was snap my fingers to get the serving robot to pour me another one. That was pretty slick, to my mind. These AI robots were getting smarter every year. They were able to figure out behavioral patterns and anticipate requests before you even made them. This impressive tech came from 51-Pegasi.

About twenty minutes later, I was beginning to feel a nice light buzz in my head. Galina and Sophia were still talking, but I didn’t feel any urge to go interrupt. Wedding stuff was about the most boring thing that God had ever created, in my personal view.

Another kind of urge did overcome me eventually, however. It was an urge to urinate. My eyes cast around the garden, looking for one of those piss-boxes they rented out on Earth—but I didn’t see one.

Being a man of both initiative and decisive action, I wandered off into the rows of sculpted fruit trees and hanging flowered vines. Finding a private spot, I pissed on a dry patch under some kind of flowering, fruitless pear. Always help out mother nature when you can, that’s my motto.

While I was engaged in this eco-friendly act, I heard something from above. Craning my neck around, I saw not one, not two, but three aircars looping down out of the sky.

This might normally have created concern or amazement in my mind, but not today. Not here. This place was crawling with brass and other dignitaries. So what if some fancy-pants public servant liked to travel with an escort? I was sure that no one would even blink an eye in this crowd.

The aircars landed as I finished up and decided to head back toward the beer cart for another round. I didn’t make it out of the bushes before everything changed, however.

First, a ripping sound tore up the air. Streaks of fire rhythmically lit up the sky over my head, making me duck. Then the screaming began.

The party guests were all running, screeching, and being shot in the back as they fled.

-5-

My hand went to my belt, but there was nothing there. There wasn’t even a combat knife as I’d been stripped of weapons when I’d arrived an hour ago.

Doubling over and running in a crouch, I plunged through various hedges and other cultivations. I circled around, rather than running out into the open. While I did this, I looked around for a weapon. There wasn’t much to grab, just a garden spade. It would have to do.

There was counterfire by this time—coming from the mansion itself. I hadn’t seen any hog-types guarding the backyard, but I’d seen plenty inside. They were firing down the back steps now, showering the wedding setup. White tables with flower arrangements and party favors were blasted in the crossfire. Hapless civvies crawled to get away. Some seemed to make it away to the sides, others were cut down.

I had to admit, the hogs were giving it their all. They didn’t hesitate and waffle about who was shooting at them, or what innocent might get caught and mowed down. They just hammered away, chipping statues and tearing up gazebos. They didn’t seem to care about collateral damage at all.

The good thing about all this destruction was that it kept the attacking men focused on the mansion. I moved quickly behind the nearest man and swung my spade. I caught him with the blade of it, half-way cutting off his head with one powerful blow. With his neck gouting blood and a shocked look on his face, he sagged to his knees.

For the first time, I had a chance to notice just what kind of man I was dealing with. He was a Tau. A type of humanoid alien I hadn’t dealt with for many long years.

What was a Tau doing here on Earth? Why would any Tau attack a politician’s wedding party? I had no answers, and right now I didn’t much care. I just wanted to send him back to wherever he and his buddies had come from in a hurry.

I grabbed the Tau’s gun out of his numb fingers. It was some sort of pellet-throwing short-barreled machine gun. It looked like it used an accelerator similar to a snap-rifle but with heavier pellets and a high rate of fire. It wasn’t too accurate, but it seemed quite effective in a close-range fight like this one.

Snapping the bolt, I caught the eye of another Tau who was crawling over what remained of the altar. I unloaded into him before he could bring his gun up into line. Then I turned the weapon on the others who hadn’t noticed me yet, gunning down several in quick order. They were all crawling around seeking cover, but that didn’t do much good when there was a gunman standing right behind you.

Suddenly, the Tau broke. Maybe they could sense their losses somehow, and they’d decided enough was enough. It was either that, or someone had ordered them to pull out. Whatever the case, they rose up as one and ran for their aircars.

I fired after them, hammering at the fleeing men and their vehicles. Bullets spanged and sparked all over the aircars, but they seemed impervious. They had shielding, like the cars I’d escorted back on Cancri-9, Steel World.

Once the fleeing bandits dove into their vehicles they lifted off, sailing away to the north. I fired a few more bursts, but it was useless.

Along about then, a pack of hogs came near, panting. They ordered me to drop my weapon, which I did without a fuss. To be honest, I was pretty impressed they’d recognized I wasn’t one of the attackers and hadn’t gunned me down. That showed unusual levels of training and restraint for a fire team of hogs.

“You’re from the legions,” one of them said. He was wearing a suit instead of a uniform, but he seemed to be in charge.

“That’s right. Who were those guys?”

The hog agent looked me over. “We were hoping you could enlighten us on that point, legionnaire.”

“Oh yeah… well, I could tell they were from Tau Ceti. Very weird to see them on Earth, shooting up a party no less. Do you have any idea why they would be here? And in a killing mood? Is anyone here worth assassinating?”

The hog looked thoughtful. “There are many here that would be worthy of assassination—but not for a nonhuman. I don’t understand this, and I don’t like what I don’t understand. Legionnaire, don’t leave the area until we’ve had a chance to interview you further.”

“Sure thing.”

Now that the action seemed to be over, I picked up the gun I’d used. No one had taken it away.

Then I wandered into the center of the party area—or rather, the middle of the devastation. There were bodies tangled with folding chairs and blood everywhere.

In the dead center of the place, I found Galina on top of her sister. It looked like the poor girl had died trying to protect her kin. They were both dead.

That brought a frown to my face. I sure hated to see two pretty ladies dead on the ground in the middle of what should have been a happy occasion. It just didn’t sit right with me. Not at all.

After figuring out there was nothing I could do for either of the girls, I shouldered my machine gun and walked into the mansion. The hogs looked concerned about me, but no one tried to take my weapon. They’d all watched me ambush the bandits, and they knew I was on their side in this fight. I wished the hogs back at Central could be so open-minded in such situations.

I found Galina’s father near the entrance to the place, about where he’d been signing things on fancy tables an hour ago. The tables were gone. They’d been replaced by a grim-eyed group. They spoke together in Russian, and they didn’t sound very happy.

The old man spotted me after a minute or so, and he pushed everyone else aside to approach. He didn’t complain about me being armed, he just walked up bold as brass and poked a finger into my chest muscles.

“McGill,” he said. “Sophia is dead. Galina is dead. I am very unhappy right now.”

“I can’t blame you for that, sir.”

He stared at me for a long second. “We have been reviewing the vids. There are security cameras all over this property, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Uh…” I said, taking in the obvious logic of what he was saying. Had he got a powerful look at my dick on top of everything else?

“As you would expect, we’re suspicious of your part in this unprecedented drama. I have my enemies, but they generally don’t appear from off-world to assault my house. You, on the other hand, disappeared at the very moment of their arrival. You then reappeared to play the part of the hero. Do you find this sequence of events credible?”

“Well, sir… I have a confession to make. I went off into the garden to take a piss. When I heard the gunfire, I came back into the yard and… well, I guess my training kicked in.”

Old Man Turov frowned at me. He signaled to one of his hog guards, who began flipping through a dozen camera feeds on his tapper. Sure enough, he found a shot of my uniquely long-legged form and a firehose worth of urine splattering the camera pickup.

The hogs chuckled, but Turov’s daddy didn’t crack a smile.

“I see that you have a valid excuse for your actions. But I don’t entirely believe you despite this evidence. Your legion is not known for such buffoonery. I suspect you know more than you’re letting on.”

“Look, Mr. Turov, sir—should I call you that?”

“You may call me Alexander, for that is my name.”

“Yessir. Anyway, Alex, I didn’t kill the wedding party. Some other band of assholes did. I shot as many of them as I could, and I would guess they might have made it in here to slaughter the lot of you if I hadn’t been on their six at the right moment.”

Alexander looked over some more vids. He seemed to be thinking hard. Finally, he nodded.

“All right. I will accept you as an ally for now. Here is the situation: several members of the wedding party have been permed. Galina will obviously shrug this off, but my daughter Sophia… this will be very painful for her.”

“I can understand that, sir.”

“What’s more, Sophia hasn’t been scanned for some time now. When she is revived, she might have forgotten her engagement. In fact, she might not remember her fiancé at all.”

“Oh, jeez. That’s a tough break.”

He nodded, but he wasn’t listening to me any longer. He had a distant stare going on, like he was seeing the future or something. “The groom’s family is stricken. Some of them are among the dead, and his relatives will never recover.”

“I’m sure sorry about all that, sir. What can I do?”

He lifted a gnarled finger and pointed it at me. “Go back home. Figure out what happened here—at least what those fools at Central believe. Then, relay that information to me. This will repay your debt to me.”

“Uh…”

Right then, it struck me that Galina was a lot like her father. She liked to wire people up with favors and debts.

But in this rare case, I did feel somewhat responsible. Maybe I hadn’t been the one who’d fired bullets into the crowd, but the attackers were Tau… and someone I’d met up with recently had spoken of dealings with these people. When I got back to my side of the planet, I made a mental note to look up Carlos and have a little chat with him. Could this be at all related to his new money-making gig?

Heaving a big sigh, I nodded. “I’ll do it, Alexander Turov. You have my word.”

He looked at me seriously, then he nodded in return. “We have an arrangement. Now you must leave here. Do not return until you have impressed me, soldier of Earth.”

Handing over the machine gun at the door, I did as the old man had asked. I found an autocab waiting for me outside, and I rode straight back to the sky-train station in it.

On the long way home, I wondered what Galina would have to say when she came out of a revival machine back at Central. Nothing good, I imagined.

-6-

Less than forty-eight hours after I’d agreed to accompany Galina to an ill-fated wedding, I found myself yawning outside a revival chamber. The waiting area was cramped and cheap. Since Galina had died in a civil setting, they hadn’t put much of a rush-order on her revival.

When she came staggering out of the place at last, she blinked at me in confusion. I stood tall and forced a welcoming smile. I offered her some personal items, like her purse and such-like, which I’d carried all the way back from Russia-Sector. She rudely slapped them out of my hand.

“What did you do, James? The last thing I remember is chaos and shooting… how is that possible? Where am I, where is my family?”

“Uh…”

I tried to explain, but none of my words were met with good manners or any kind of forgiveness. Before I’d finished two sentences, she was yelling at me like a late-night drunk. That’s when the bio people running this low-rent Blue Deck became huffy.

“I thought dying didn’t bother you off-world types,” said a gruff hog-bio with a heart of stone. “You sure this isn’t a sign of a bad grow?”

I wanted to backhand him, but it would only complicate things. Instead, I tossed him a zinc five-credit piece. He caught it and glared at me.

“What the hell is this, Varus?”

“That’s your tip. Isn’t that what you’re begging for?”

He tossed it back at me angrily. “We don’t take tips, fool!”

“My mistake.”

The guards behind him were snickering and nudging one another. One of them gave me a thumbs-up. They knew this guy was a tool just as much as I did.

The bio stalked away, and I guided Galina out the door by one of her small elbows. She slapped at my hands, but she needed the support, and we both knew it.

“What happened?” she repeated.

This time, she let me complete the story. I gave her a flowered-up cock-and-bull version of events, supported by videos. I made sure I was featured prominently as a hero.

She looked up from all this, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “James, you had a bigger role in this fiasco. I know you did.”

“Galina, I swear, I was off taking a piss. That’s what saved me from going down in the initial hail of bullets. That’s the plain and simple truth.”

“I don’t accept your innocence. I would be an idiot to do so. This is just the kind of tragic nonsense that always goes on when I’m around you. I was a fool to ask you to accompany me to the wedding. An utter fool.”

“Ah come on, Galina. I did the best I could. I killed a bunch of them, just watch the vids.”

We stepped onto an elevator and floors began ticking past on the way up to Varus headquarters. Galina paged through the vids again, focusing on the gunplay. At last, she heaved a sigh of defeat.

“All right. I have to admit, you did what you could. But I don’t understand why a pack of Tau might be interested in attacking my family out of the blue. Still, it’s possible this wasn’t entirely your fault.”

“You’ve got the right idea now. We have to look at the cold hard facts. For instance, what kind of legislation was your daddy signing when we got there?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. He holds bullshit ceremonies like that all the time. He gets a kick out of it, and the peasants who vote for him like it.”

“I see… Well maybe—just maybe now—something about that particular piece of computer paper pissed off the Tau. Or somebody who hired them.”

She looked at me, frowning. “It doesn’t make sense that the moment we arrived they attacked. The timing was too perfect. He’s been signing legislation for fifty years. Why would this be the very moment assassins chose to strike?”

“Yeah… that part is a mystery,” I admitted.

She poked me in the chest. “I’m giving you new orders, Centurion. Go figure this out. The way you figured out that smuggling ring last year. But be warned: if you blow anything up, you won’t find my father to be as forgiving as I am.”

Receiving these orders wasn’t a hardship for me. Oh sure, I frowned and nodded and looked concerned, but the truth was her own daddy had already given me the same task.

Galina stopped the elevator and stepped off. I moved to follow her, but her small hand blocked my progress.

“Hit the streets right now. Report back to me once a day.”

“But… it’s kind of late, and I’m tired. I thought maybe, you know, we could comfort each other tonight…”

Galina made a disgusted sound. “Forget it. You’re going down to the ground floor and out the front door. Don’t take any wrong turns, or I’ll have you escorted out of the building.”

Grunting unhappily, I knew she meant it.

The door slammed in my face, and I was heading for the lobby. Frigging Carlos. He’d developed a magical knack for cock-blocking me over the years. I had to admit, he’d outdone himself this time.

Once I was outside, I walked toward the commercial district. There were some top-rated bar-and-grill joints there. I’d already decided that tonight would be dedicated to forgetting my disastrous European vacation.

I found a decent place with a few bored dance girls and some good beer. Before I ordered, I made a single call with my tapper. By the time the food arrived, Carlos showed up. He was a sucker for an invitation to a free meal.

Smiling, I kicked a chair his way, and he took it and sat his fat ass on it. “Hey, I hear you got lucky with Turov already. Is that really true?”

I blinked in surprise but quickly recovered. I nodded and leaned forward. Grabbing one of his wrists, I bent his fingers back with my other hand. He yelped in surprise.

Normally, when something like this happened, two Varus men might duel to the death. But Carlos and I went way back. He knew from countless hard experiences that he couldn’t beat me in a fair fight—especially if I got the jump on him.

Tugging on his fingers, I knew they were threatening to break.

“What the fuck, you ass-hat?” he demanded. “Let go of my hand!”

“I will in a minute. I want some answers, first.”

“This whole thing is a setup, isn’t it? You just want some of my coins. I can’t believe you’d go this far, McGill. I trusted you.”

“Shut up. Just tell me who’s after you. Who knows you’ve got these coins?”

He squirmed a little. “A few people… none of them are local.”

“Not local, huh? Are they aliens?”

“Maybe...”

“Are they Tau by any chance?”

His shocked look answered my question for me. I let go of him and rubbed my face in disbelief. Leaning back in my chair I swigged the rest of my latest beer.

“How did you know about the Tau?” he asked in a loud whisper.

“Because you frigging idiot, they followed me to Europe. They attacked the Turov family wedding party. Innocent people were permed.”

Carlos shook his head. “The Turovs are political animals, McGill. Their kind are never innocent.”

“Yeah, well, their families might be.”

“They shot up the families?”

I nodded, and Carlos lowered his voice to a whisper. “Uh… maybe we should get out of here, McGill.”

“Why? Are you trying to get out of paying?”

He gestured toward the entrance. “See who’s walking in? It might be time for us to stage an exit.”

I looked, and my eyes fell on a pair of honest-to-God Tau. I couldn’t believe it.

-7-

We got up to leave, but it was already too late for that. The Tau had spotted us. They walked toward us taking separate paths through the crowded bar. They looked determined.

“You got a gun on you?” I asked.

“What? Are you kidding? That would be wrong, and illegal.”

Carlos had done a good impression of me, but his skills at lying were amateurish.

“Hand it over,” I told him.

“No way.”

We stood tall as we waited for the Tau to approach. Tau are generally kind of short, easily shorter than the average human. These two were maybe one and a half meters tall, tops.

None of this seemed to dissuade them, however. They approached and nodded to us. I checked their colors, and I tried to remember the meaning. They had on red jackets and gold shoes. What was that supposed to mean? I had no clue. It had been too long.

The Tau were an odd species. They were kind of like humans, but they usually wore no clothing. Their clothes were an illusion. Instead of walking around naked, they wore colorful holograms that depicted their moods. A person who knew their color-coded dress could figure out if they were friendly or not at a glance—but that person wasn’t me.

“Hey there,” I said. “Strange to see a pair of Tau on Earth.”

“Yes. It is odd. We are here to speak with you, McGill and Ortiz.”

Carlos was already getting fidgety, and I couldn’t blame him. The thing was, I didn’t feel like popping off some energy bolts here in a crowded, public place. People were bound to get killed, and they wouldn’t come back to life tomorrow if they did.

Accordingly, I made a calming gesture in Carlos’ direction. He looked unconvinced, but at least he didn’t draw and start blazing away.

“You’re here looking for us, huh?” I asked the Tau. “That’s weird. Are you boys looking for dates or something?”

They didn’t ruffle-up, but they did blink at me with those inky black eyes.

“No,” the leader said firmly. “We’re here to impart a message.”

“Well then, impart away.”

“You will return the coins. All of the coins you stole from us, and all of those promised for the service of repairing Gelt Station.”

That one threw me. Way back during the Tech World campaign, the Tau had been reluctant to help themselves. They tended to do things effectively, but only if there was a clear profit motive involved. I’d been unable to enlist their aid to stop Gelt Station from sinking to the atmosphere of their planet.

Out of frustration, I’d distributed a few of the incredibly valuable coins Carlos and I had collected. I recalled now that I’d gone around promising a gold coin for every Tau who helped. That had gotten them going, and they’d done a bang-up job fixing their own problems.

Now, one would think that the Tau would have done that for free, as they were a beaten and dying people at the time—but you would have thought wrong. Whenever the good Lord had been handing out genes for compassion, he’d skipped these fellows. They wanted payment for anything they did, and if you couldn’t pay, they figured you deserved death or whatever other fate befell you.

Naturally, I’d skipped town by the time they came looking for payment.

“Hmmm…” I said thoughtfully. “Exactly how many gold coins are we talking about, here?”

“Twelve million, six hundred two thousand, seventy-nine.”

“Uh…”

“That is the figure without the interest or penalties that have been accrued. Would you like a printed invoice?”

Carlos laughed sarcastically. “I get it now. You were the one who screwed the pooch, McGill. You thought all of this was my fault—but nooo, all I did was alert them to who we were and where we might be found. You’re the one who made the original deal. Now, they’ve come to collect.”

“Shut up, let me think,” I said, and turned back to the Tau. “This seems like a reasonable way to collect the money. So why did your people attack a wedding prior to this?”

“Our first approach was heavy-handed,” the Tau leader admitted. “It was calculated that capturing personnel important to you would be the best way to proceed. Since that approach failed, we’ve changed our tactics.”

“I see. I take it then that you’re willing to negotiate?”

“Negotiate? What is there to negotiate?”

“Well for starters, there’s that astronomical amount. No one has that kind of cash, not even a Mogwa. You have to understand that it doesn’t even exist.”

The Tau studied me. “That is unfortunate.”

“It sure is. Do you think I’d be sitting in this dive bar drinking swill if I had that kind of coin? I’d be buying a planet full of naked women or something.”

The Tau seemed to consider. “That admission was expected, and it brings us to the next stage of our interaction.”

I saw Carlos slide his hand under his jacket. I’m sure he was touching his pistol, just in case the Tau started something.

“You have cheated a great number of Tau,” he said. “The level of crime you’ve committed is unheard of in our planetary records.”

“McGill is always good for that,” Carlos chimed in. “You can count on his crimes registering as nothing less than spectacular.”

The Tau nodded, taking in this information in a serious fashion. Their kind didn’t have much of a sense of humor. I wondered if Carlos was making things worse.

For my part, I have to admit I was feeling a touch guilty. Not for tricking the Tau into fixing their own problems years ago, mind you. But other things. For one, I’d participated in blasting the umbilical on their planet with a barrage from my transport’s broadsides. A whole lot of people had died right then. To this day Earthers still called the place Trash World. I could look back on it now and see that it was just plain rude of me.

On top of that, I realized now that I’d pretty much wrecked Galina’s family wedding. That was a crying shame. I’d thought it was Carlos’ fault, but no, it had been me these goons were after all along. Just as old man Turov had originally suspected. What was I going to tell him now?

“Uh…” I said. “What can I do to make it up to you people?”

The Tau seemed intense. “You admit your guilt? You admit that you are the McGill that we’ve sought for countless days?”

“He’s your fugitive, all right,” Carlos said. “I’ll swear to it on a stack of bibles if you want me to.”

I gave him a dark glance. He wasn’t helping.

“Look, Mr. Tau. I’m real sorry about how things went. Your people were abused, but in the end, if Legion Varus hadn’t visited you back then, you might have been exterminated entirely, or become slaves to the squids.”

“Your words are meaningless. A debt had been accrued. False statements have been made. Unrelated events, both prior and subsequent, mean nothing.”

“What? Well, that’s just too bad then. You people always were ungrateful. It’s like talking to a frigging Nairb every time I meet up with your kind.”

“No references to payment or offers of payment can be discerned from your statements. They have therefore been deemed nonsensical and will be ignored.”

“Okay, okay. So, I can’t pay. What are you going to do about it?”

I expected him to draw and take a shot at me. I really did—but he didn’t.

“Your execution would normally be sought, but in this case, it would be insufficient punishment.”

“How’s that?”

“Because you’ll simply be inconvenienced and revived within hours. No, another form of compensation must be devised and adjudicated.”

“Yeah, yeah… out with it. What are you talking about?”

“Few things are dear to a destitute human such as yourself. The only tangible items of true value we can take are your genetic associates.”

“My what?”

“Uh… McGill?” Carlos was interrupting again. I turned toward him, and he had a funny look on his face.

“What?”

“I think he’s talking about your family.”

“Yes! Yes!” The Tau said excitedly. “That’s the proper translation. Your ancestors, your offspring—we shall destroy them all, McGill.”

The Tau’s head exploded about a half second later. It was a good shot, if I do say so myself. I’d snatched the gun Carlos had slid out from his jacket, angled the weapon upward, and caught the nasty Tau with a bolt right under the chin.

There was a neat hole in the table. A wisp of smoke rose from the spot.

Much more impressive was the massive chunk of Tau brains that had blown out of the top of the alien’s skull in the form of a nasty-smelling vapor.

Alarmed, the second Tau reached for his weapon, but my big hand clamped down on his skinny wrist.

“Drop it, Mr. Tau.”

A needler hit the floor and clattered.

All around us, the bar was clearing out fast. A few people were filming us with their tappers—but those brave souls were rare. Most folks were doing their best to exit the place in a hurry, and I couldn’t blame them.

“Listen up,” I told the Tau, ignoring his wriggling hand. I held him firmly. “Can you understand me?”

Carlos hadn’t been idle during this discussion. He stepped up behind the Tau and put a combat knife up against his spine.

The Tau stopped struggling. “I understand you.”

“Good. Listen. We’re going to cut a deal, you and me.”

“I do not deal with known cheats.”

“All right then, Carlos here will make the deal. He’s good for it. He sold you guys coins that were real, didn’t he?”

The Tau looked over his shoulder at Carlos, who nodded. “This is acceptable—if this other human agrees.”

“Um…” Carlos said. “Let’s hear the deal you have in mind first, McGill. The Tau take their deals seriously.”

“All right. I’m proposing a truce. You Tau fellows return to Tech World, and in return we won’t kill all of you. That’s the deal, and it’s a bona fide offer.”

The Tau looked confused. “But… you have not yet paid your debts.”

“Nope.”

“Your words are a confusion. An arrangement of impossibilities. There has been no restitution, no form of reparation. No settling of accounts. In fact, there has been further loss of life on our part. Your debt has therefore been magnified.”

I aimed a finger at him like it was a gun, and I fired it into his belly. He winced a little. Maybe he’d thought it was a real, secret weapon.

“Now you’re finally talking sense,” I told him. “You’ve got the right of it, buddy-boy. Each day you stay here on Earth trying to collect on a debt that can’t be paid, you’re going to lose more. More people and more wealth. It’s best that you cut your losses and run. That’s the sweetest deal you’re going to get from me.”

“I can’t conceive of this as a resolution.”

“You don’t have to. You have a boss, right?”

 “Yes. I operate under an individual of superior influence.”

“Of course you do. Tau-boy, I like you, so I’m going to cut you a break. Right here, right now, I’m going to give you your life back. Consider that a down payment. All you have to do is go back to your boss and tell him about my offer. If you’re lucky, he’ll accept it. If not… well… I’m sorry for you and your kind. You don’t really deserve what’s coming, but I can’t have a pack of snooty aliens threatening my folks. I just can’t have it.”

The Tau seemed bewildered, but he was happy enough when we disarmed him and let him go. He exited the bar in a big hurry before the cops showed up. Carlos and I did the same right after him, leaving a healthy tip behind to help clean up the mess. We didn’t have time to be explaining things and filling out forms, but I didn’t want to burden the good people who ran the bar. After all, they were just trying to make a living.

Reaching Carlos’ aircar, I climbed in and gestured wildly for him to take off.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“To my folks’ house, of course.”

Grumbling about fuel costs as if he was part Tau himself, he fired up the engine, and we roared away into the night.

-8-

Some hours later we bumped down onto my parents’ property. I climbed out of the cabin and stretched. It was just before dawn, and the air was cool and quiet.

Carlos followed me, eyeing every moss-draped tree in the swamp for possible attackers. He had his weapon out and looked around nervously.

“Nothing to worry about yet,” I told him.

“How can you tell?”

I pointed toward the yard. “No one is dead in the grass. The night-birds are singing their morning songs, and nothing looks torn up.”

He glanced at me. “The night-birds? You mean those fist-sized crickets you have out there in the swamp?”

I shrugged, conceding his point. “Let’s go up to the house and check things out.”

My folks were home, and they were excited to see me. They were just getting up and still in their nightclothes. They immediately offered to make us some breakfast.

After a round of hugs, I pulled my pop aside for a quick talk. “Hey, uh… Dad?”

“What is it, James? You’ve been acting twitchy. Is it for a reason?”

“Yeah… about that. Could I get you and mom to take a little trip to town? In the tram, I mean? Maybe you could stay at Aunt Milly’s for the day, or something.”

“Aunt Milly’s? She barely knows her own name these days.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve got to visit people before it’s too late… if you know what I mean.”

He frowned, and he looked at the guns at our sides. We were out of uniform, but we were both armed. That was unusual.

“You sure you boys won’t need an extra hand? I’ve got a hunting rifle over the mantle.”

“Dad, that’s a fine offer. But someone has to take Momma into town.”

He nodded, thinking it over. He heaved a sigh. “It better not be the law coming out here for you again, boy. I don’t want a repeat of the last time men came to arrest you. There was blood and death everywhere.”

“It won’t be anything like that,” I said, faking a laugh. “Rest assured.”

He looked extremely unassured, but he managed to make up a reason to go get something in Waycross and hustled my mom out to the garage. She didn’t want to go, as she figured Carlos was a rare guest, but somehow my dad convinced her not to cook up some breakfast.

When they were gone, rattling up the road in their aging tram, Carlos and I both heaved a sigh of relief.

“So far, so good. What about your daughter?”

“She went back to Dust World yesterday. They’ll have a fun time tracking her down out there. Tau thugs will find those pioneer folk a hardy breed.”

“They’re vicious, don’t you mean?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but I stopped. I heard buzzing outside just then.

“Aircars?” Carlos asked.

“Sounds like it.”

He looked at me seriously. “How are we going to do this?”

“Just follow my lead.”

I walked outside and put my hands up in the air. Behind me, Carlos did the same. We had our pistols in their holsters, but the Tau spilling out on the grass weren’t a trusting lot.

“When they take us,” I told Carlos, “get yourself into the second aircar.”

“Take us where? What are you talking about?”

“You heard me. Make sure you’re in the second car.”

“I thought they had three.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, well, the other one might have had an accident back in Russia…”

Carlos snorted. He was acting tough, but I could tell he was nervous.

I walked up to the Tau with my hands held high. I thought I recognized the little bastard I saw the night before.

“We should kill you where you stand,” said another one. He was wearing a different glowy set of fake clothes. He had on a silver hat, silver shoes and a dead black outfit, head to toe. Did that mean he was in a vengeful mood, or a serious negotiating one? I had no idea, and I didn’t much care.

“You gentlemen are trespassing,” I said to them. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Absurd. You are just as obnoxious and recalcitrant as I was told.”

I nodded. “That sounds about right, yeah. Anyway, what do you gentlemen want?”

“Restitution. Repayment. Justice.”

“Well then, you’ve come to the right place. I’m here to offer you payment in full.”

This perked them up. They stopped slouching over their weapons and glared at me. “Explain yourself, McGill.”

“Just like I said. You know we were back there on Tech World, back when your station was sinking into the atmosphere?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Your crimes are well-documented.”

I lifted a long finger and pointed at the sky. They shuffled around uneasily. “Not all of them. No, sir. Did you know a man named Claver was with us? A man who led us while we took a bank’s worth of Imperial credits?”

“He is known to us. When we find him, we will wreak even greater indignities upon his person than we plan to perform upon you and yours.”

“A solid plan. Well, in any case, he stashed some coins here on Earth. Carlos has been spreading them around. That’s how you found us, right?”

“Correct, but this discussion is pointless. We saw your ancestors leave as we arrived. They will be found and dealt with immediately, then we will return for you.”

So saying, the snotty boss-Tau turned to climb back into his aircar.

I reached out a long arm and hooked the back of his collar with one thick finger. He turned back around, snarling.

“Do you wish to hasten your death? That is not protocol, but it can be arranged. Your family is to die first, and the bodies are to be viewed by your eyes. This is the plan—but it can be altered if you insist.”

“I had something better in mind. Remember that stash of coins I mentioned?”

Despite his every instinct and emotion to the contrary, the snooty Tau looked interested. The Tau were nothing if not greedy. “Tell me what you are talking about. Be quick.”

“We know where the rest of Claver’s stash is, and we’d like to give it to you.”

He blinked his freaky eyes in surprise. “Why didn’t you explain this when we made our initial demands?”

“Well… I guess we didn’t take you seriously. Now that you’re here and clearly planning great harm, well, we’ve been convinced.”

The Tau nodded. This kind of logic he understood. No Tau worth his salt would ever give up a tin credit piece unless he was absolutely forced to do so.

“Very well. We will confiscate your stash. How many millions of coins do you have?”

I thought about telling him I had the full amount, but that seemed ludicrous, and I didn’t want to get his guard up.

“I don’t rightly know,” I said. “The coins fill the basement of a house like this one. I never tried to count them all.”

The Tau became excited. They babbled in their own language and did some math on a computer scroll. The head Tau seemed impressed. “That is a significant sum. It will probably be insufficient, but we will accept it as a first installment and take ownership immediately.”

“Okay then. Let’s mount up and ride.”

They balked at that. “There is no reason to take you with us. Give us the coordinates of this house and basement.”

“Uh… afraid I can’t do that. I don’t know the latitude and longitude. I usually just follow the local roads on foot. You’ll have to take me and my associate along to guide you.”

They complained and carried on. Carlos helped out by telling them how dumb I was and how a retarded chimp could find a spot on a map faster than I could. At last, they were convinced to load us into their aircars.

Carlos remembered my single instruction and threw a fit when they tried to put him in the back of the same aircar I was climbing into. Baffled and annoyed, they hustled him away into the second car.

Wedged in shoulder-to-shoulder with a grumbling Tau on each side, I led them on a merry goose-chase. We sailed over the swamp, then up north toward the Blue Ridge Mountains. That was where I made my move.

It was a simple thing, really. When you’re flying in an aircar, and you’ve got a man aboard who wants to die, well sir, that’s a tough spot to be in. Especially when that man is bigger than you and well-trained.

The two in the backseat with me weren’t much trouble at all. I put my elbow into the right man’s face and punched the other one several times until he stopped moving.

That’s when the leader in the front passenger seat turned around and shot me. That hurt, I don’t mind telling you. It hurt bad, but it didn’t put me out right away.

Sure, I was dying, but I didn’t care. I just moved faster, so I could get my work done before I passed out.

Pushing the leader’s gun off my belly, where he’d just blown a fresh new hole, I heard it go off a few more times. The guy I’d elbowed was now an explosion of red gore. The windows blew out, and the air whistled in through the jagged glass.

The leader must have had some kind of neural toy in his other hand, however. I hadn’t figured on that. He touched me a few times, and parts of me went numb. One of my eyes even stopped working.

Lunging forward, I opened his door for him. The passenger hatchway beeped and lights flashed. The aircar was already doing some spins, due to all the commotion, and the leader fellow went spiraling out into space.

That left just me and the driver. I turned to him, all bleeding and drippy. He took one hand off the wheel long enough to lift a pistol in my direction—but he never quite got it in line with my face. I knocked it out of his hand and saw it fly out the same open hatchway that had swallowed the lead Tau.

I felt a burst of sickness then. I wanted to vomit, despite the fact I didn’t have much in the way of guts left to do so. Knowing I might black out at any moment, I didn’t bother to do anything complicated. I just forced my body over the seats and headrests, then forced the stick forward and spun the steering wheel hard-over. We went into a spinning dive immediately.

The little Tau fellow—he did his best. He bit me and struggled with me and gouged my eyes up—but it couldn’t stop the inevitable.

Less than a minute after the fight had begun, we slammed down onto the forest at terrific speed. I caught a glimpse of the second aircar doing some acrobatics far above me as we fell—apparently, Carlos had figured out the plan and was executing it with me.

He was a good wingman to have in a crisis.

-9-

When I was eventually revived up at Central, my bleary eyes discovered an unwelcome sight: a pack of hogs in uniforms.

“Is this the perp?” asked a stern looking hog. He was the leader, a so-called officer. His name was Jalbert, and he wore a blue hegemony uniform with pants that were too tight around the middle.

“Yes, Adjunct. This is Centurion McGill,” a bio woman answered.

I liked her right away. She’d purposefully pointed out both our ranks, a way of publicly stating that I was higher ranked than he was. Perhaps she thought this hog owed me a smidgeon of respect. I could have told her that wasn’t going to be forthcoming, but I wasn’t able to talk yet.

“Is he able to walk? We have an interrogation chamber ready for him.”

“Give him a minute. He’ll come around.”

I took my time in recovery. I groaned and stretched and pretended I couldn’t talk and all that. Eventually, I got bored with the act and sat up.

“Let’s go, hog,” I announced. “Why are you arresting me anyways?”

Adjunct Jalbert looked annoyed. Most hogs looked like that all the time, so his bad attitude wasn’t anything new to me.

“So now you’re fine, huh? Well Centurion McGill, you’ve involved yourself in a diplomatic incident. Representatives of the Tau Ceti embassy have filed a formal complaint with a demand for compensation from Hegemony. That isn’t sitting well with the brass at Central, so you’re going to the detention tanks down-under.”

“Hmm…” I said, not liking the sound of that. At Central, “down-under” didn’t refer to a distant continent. It was a reference to the numerous sinister chambers under the main floors. The hogs kept a dungeon of sorts down there, and their political prisoners rarely saw the light of day.

The hog grinned at my frown of concern. “Not such a funny guy anymore, huh? That’s too damned sad. We’re all broken up about it, aren’t we, boys?”

The two burly noncom hogs at Jalbert’s back looked more concerned than amused. They didn’t seem to like anything about the situation. That made me like them a bit, too. Maybe it was just this boss-hog that was the problem and not the regular guys.

“So, you work for the Tau, do you Jalbert?” I asked him. “They write your checks?”

My words were intended to needle the boss-hog. His smile vanished, so I knew my shot had hit home. I hid a smile while I pulled on a uniform and adjusted my beret.

“I don’t work for the Tau, McGill,” he snarled, “but I don’t go around killing them for sport, either.”

I smiled. “Sounds like typical chickenry to me. A man who doesn’t have the balls to fight off-world always seems to side with the aliens. It’s a shameful thing to hear, but that kind of sentiment is everywhere these days.”

“Whatever. You’re under formal arrest, Centurion. You’re coming with us down to the detention levels. No funny business, or we’ll have to put you in gravity cuffs.”

I’d suggested to similar petty men in the past that they should take that precaution anyway. People often underestimated me when they had me outnumbered and outgunned. But today, I didn’t feel like handing out any freebie warnings.

Nodding, I headed for the door. Jalbert’s hogs crowded around to make it look good. When we got out into the corridors, I lengthened my stride.

“Stop walking so damned fast,” Jalbert complained.

“Sorry. Long legs, don’t you know.”

I didn’t slow down until they grabbed hold of my elbows and pulled. For another dozen paces, I half dragged the two noncoms down the passageway.

Glancing down, I pretended to be startled. “Whoa… hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you boys down there.”

I finally slowed down and walked with them evenly when we got to the elevator. We were on the ground floor of Central, and the lobby hogs looked on with interest. They nudged one another and pointed at me, leering. In response, I decided to adjust the brim of my beret with my middle finger.

My tapper began buzzing before we got off the elevator. I tried to answer it, but the hogs were hanging onto my arms like a pair of hungry hoglets.

At last, the tapper answered itself. I knew that meant the call was from a superior of mine in the chain of command. Only they had the permissions to force a call through like that.

“McGill?” Imperator Turov said. “What are you doing? Answer my call when I contact you. I know you’re in the building.”

The hogs grunted as they worked to keep my arms down at my side, but I lifted the one on my left half off his feet. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m under some kind of arrest. I can’t talk right now.”

“What nonsense. Put me in touch with the arresting officer.”

The door to the elevator swished open about then, and I saw a fresh pack of hogs waiting for me at the gates to the detention center. These clowns carried shock-rods and whips, which made an ugly look when combined with their ornery grins. Clearly, they’d been alerted that I was on the way, and that I needed some serious behavioral correction.

Lifting my tapper a smidge higher, I forced a grunt out of the hog on my left. He was really trying to hold that arm down but failing at it.

“Here,” I told Adjunct Jalbert. “It’s for you.”

I grinned at him while Galina redesigned him a new orifice. In the end, the hogs stepped off the elevator and left me on it. I relaxed while the car soared upward, letting it whisk me away to the highest floors. It was like riding an angel’s wings from Hell all the way up to Heaven.

When the elevator dinged again at last, I found myself face to face with Gary, Galina’s office butt-boy.

“This way McGill,” he said in a somewhat disgusted tone. I followed him and tried to strike up a conversation, but he wasn’t in the mood.

I knew right off what his problem was. He was Galina’s unappreciated simp. He’d spent years trying to gain her favor, probably hoping for rank and to get into her pants at the same time. Neither gambit had worked out. He was still an adjunct and still kissing up to one of the toughest women in the service. It was a thankless job.

Gary ushered me into the imperator’s new office, and I had to whistle in appreciation.

“Damnation, this carpet is thicker than swamp-grass.”

“A startling analogy,” Galina said from behind me.

I turned to find she’d stepped out of another room. The office had several rooms all adjoining the central waiting area.

Craning my neck to look past her, I found she had a pretty sweet setup. Her office had a private bathroom, a closet and a meeting chamber with a big oval computer desk in the middle of some comfy-looking chairs.

Gary walked to his desk and sat there with his eyes downcast. I decided to give him a little show so he could see what he was missing.

Stepping up to Galina, I reached for her hand. She pursed her lips and gave me a little shake of the head.

I took her hand anyways, then swept it up and gave it a light kiss. After that, I let her go. She looked annoyed and flattered at the same time. I’d seen some of the fops do that back in Russia at the wedding, so I knew that she’d like that sort of attention.

“Did I do that wrong?” I asked her. “Your relatives made it look so natural.”

“Shut up and follow me.”

That was easy to do and a very pleasant experience overall. She was wearing some kind of cape-like jacket today. It matched her uniform and seemed kind of fancy. None of that mattered to me, however. The important thing was the cape was short. So short that it didn’t even cover her butt. I was pretty sure that detail had been arranged on purpose. Galina would never have willingly worn anything that hid her best feature.

I followed her into her inner sanctum which amounted to a couch, desk, bed and another private bathroom. It was her quarters while she was at Central.

The difference between this place and the last one I’d seen her inhabit was one of scale. I whistled in appreciation.

“Wow, what a spread! That couch could hold three—no, four people. And look at that bar! Salami, cheese and pickles? Are there any crackers? My guts are empty.”

“Underneath… in the cabinet.”

Her words were great to hear. She wasn’t spiteful or angry or telling me I was always eating something—which I was. No sir. She’d offered up her best without complaint. Whatever was on her mind, it wasn’t a scolding, torture or permadeath, I could tell that much at least.

A few moments later I was munching away and gulping a whiskey sour on her fine new couch. She didn’t even order me to remove my boots from the coffee table.

Instead, she just looked at me.

“James,” she said after a time, “You are an enigma. So irritating… but so useful. You’re extremely competent at the single skill you have.”

“Uh… and what skill would that be, sir?”

“Killing people, of course.”

“Oh yeah, that.”

I’d been hoping she’d say lovemaking, but she wasn’t focused on that right now. Maybe later. All good things came to men who seized their opportunities when the time was right.

“And quite a killing spree you did have, didn’t you? It will cost me, of course. But I freely accept that price. I gave you an order, and you executed it with your usual zeal.”

I blinked a few times, and I even stopped munching for a few seconds. What was she talking about?

But then, it came to me. The last time I’d talked to her, she’d told me I was to ferret out the people who’d attacked the wedding party. She didn’t seem to know about the stolen gold coins, the pissed-off Tau and the rest of it. I got the feeling she didn’t much care, either. From her point of view, the bad guys had been found and destroyed. That’s what counted.

“Uh-huh,” I said with my mouth full. “I found them and killed them all before they could do any more mischief.”

A tiny frown wrinkled her fine features. “Yes. About that… how did the Tau end up at your family farm? That part seemed confusing to me when I read the reports.”

I shrugged. “Sometimes a man needs a few secrets. You don’t mind that as long as the job gets done, right?”

She frowned a little more deeply. “Let me think. You lured them there to put them at ease, perhaps. A risk, but you’re nothing if not a man who is willing to risk it all. Then, after gaining their confidence, you boarded their aircars and took them both out. You and your repulsive minion, Carlos, that is...”

“Oh… yeah,” I said, thinking of Carlos for the first time since I’d come back to life. “Uh… what happened to Carlos Ortiz?”

“Your sidekick has just been revived. He’s on his way down to detention, I imagine.”

“Oh hey, Galina, could you do me a solid and spring him out of there like you did me?”

She shook her head. “I gave you orders to take care of these enemies. I didn’t tell you to bring another man into your confidence. He probably knows too much at this point. He’s going to have to pay a price.”

“Aw, come on. Are you serious? I couldn’t take down two aircars by myself. I needed Carlos to finish the job. You’ve got to help him out.”

She moved then, lifting her fine rump off her desk and approaching me. By this time I’d finished my snack and my drink. I wanted more of both, but I stayed sitting. I didn’t know what was next.

She came close and held out her hand. For a second, I thought she wanted me to kiss it again, or maybe to take her hand and grab her—but then I saw the gleaming object laid across her palm.

“James? Do you know what this is?”

“Uh… a coin?”

“That’s right. It is a coin. It’s money, James. Real money. In the Core Systems, this is highly valuable and accepted for trade everywhere. Out here in the frontier provinces however, it’s very illegal. Do you know where this coin came from, James?”

Her voice was a purr, but I knew I was in danger based on her tone. I reflexively began bullshitting.

“Wow! If that’s not the damnedest thing I’ve ever seen! A Galactic coin? I’ve never even heard of such a thing. Can I hold it?”

She slapped me then—hard—with the hand that wasn’t holding the coin.

“Stop lying. The dead Tau had these when we sifted through the wreckage. Carlos did as well. Where did you clowns get these?”

“Uh… did I have any coins on my body?”

“No, you did not.”

“That’s right. So, you’re going to have to get your answers from someone who knows more than I do about these coins.”

She growled and closed her hand over the coin again, making a fist. “Now you know why Ortiz is going to detention. I couldn’t have saved you if you’d had one of these on you—but you didn’t. Perhaps you’re not as stupid as you seem.”

“Carlos might say the first crazy thing that comes to his mind when they lean on him,” I cautioned her. “We don’t want that.”

She looked at me sternly. “Are you threatening me?”

“That’s a warning, not a threat. We just need to be careful, that’s all.”

“Wonderful… But it doesn’t matter in any case. I couldn’t pull rank to get him out of there even if I wanted to. He’s not in the service any longer, remember? He quit. That makes it much harder. He’ll have to get a lawyer—if he can find anyone crazy enough to take such a case.”

“Oh yeah… he quit. Damn.”

“I see the light is gleaming in your skull, however dimly. But now I have to decide what is to be done with you.”

“You could put me down for a nap on that fine bed of yours over there.”

She snorted at me. “Since you’re not being helpful, I have a new mission for you.”

“You do…? I hope it involves killing.”

She shook her head. “Probably not. You must find out where these coins came from. When you find the source, you will make sure it has nothing to do with Earth. You must have evidence. Good enough evidence to convince a Nairb.”

“A Nairb?”

“They’re coming to Earth soon. Some vicious bastard must have alerted them about the existence of these coins.”

“Ouch. Well, okay... I can try to find out more. But it’s getting late. How about you and I enjoy the evening together in the meantime?”

She hit me again. This time with the fist that was closed over that coin. She hissed and rubbed her hand afterward. “Just get out of here.”

I got up and walked out before she lost it completely.

-10-

After telling Gary that the imperator had requested a roll of paper towels in a hurry, I enjoyed watching him spring into action. His look of disgust was probably matched by Galina’s own expression when she asked him what he thought he was doing in her office with this item—but I was already long gone by that time.

Riding the elevator down from the lofty heights where Galina’s office was located, I thought about continuing my descent into the bowels of Central. Being a man of immediate action, I seriously considered just busting my way in and freeing Carlos myself.

Fortunately, my fool brain was just smart enough to convince me this wasn’t a good idea. Even if the effort was somehow successful, it would only transform Carlos and myself into wanted fugitives. I’d be kicked out of the service and on the run.

I kinda liked Carlos... in a way... and I considered him a friend. But he wasn’t worth that kind of risk. Nope, I was going to have to fix this the hard way.

Cursing to myself as I walked out onto the sidewalks, I considered my options. I could ask certain people for help, but most of them were unlikely to give it.

There was one person, however, who might be interested in a case like this: Claver.

There were many subtle flavors to the man called Claver. They were all clone variants, and we thought of them as a massive clan, or extended family. One version was a woman, while most were simpletons bred for battle.

But then there was the man I called Claver-X. I’d developed a special friendship with this mutant clone. He was far less self-centered than the rest, and he’d helped me on several occasions.

The trouble with Claver-X was that he was impossible to reach by definition. If anyone—especially the other Clavers—ever found him, they’d kill him.

That left me with an interesting conundrum. A puzzle to be solved.

I walked the streets for an hour, stopped by a bar for a beer, then walked some more. After about ten miles and ten bars, I finally got an idea.

Returning to Central, I received irritated glances from the hogs as I went down to the Gray Zone underground. There was a grand central station down here, a place where permanent gateway links had been set up that went to many worlds. Every planet inhabited by humanity could now be reached on foot. All you had to do was have the proper authorization and the guts to walk into a disintegrator.

After a quick call to Galina, I was approved to do a walk-through. She knew what I was trying to figure out, and it only made sense that I would need to go off-world to finish the mission. Accordingly, she gave her permission. Seeing as she was now an imperator again, and her daddy was a bigwig in the government, well, people tended to get out her way whenever possible.

Grumbling about regulations, the hog team let me approach the gateway posts at their little check-point.

“Where do you want to go, Centurion?” one of them finally asked.

“To Death World.”

He blinked at me. “L-347?”

“That’s the one.”

“But… no one goes out there, sir.”

“Look, are you going to obstruct me any further today? Because if that’s your plan, I can just call—”

“No, sir. Sorry, sir. I’m… I’m just surprised. Right this way.”

He led me to a set of posts way in the back. I swear there was a spider web hanging off the left one—I swear it.

Steeling myself for instant death, I walked toward my chosen gateway and stepped through.

A moment later, I found myself looking at a spooky alien forest.

I could tell right off that no one had been out here in a long time. As far as humans went, it was pretty much a deserted planet. I saw just a few units of Blood Worlders that wandered in the clearing around the base where the gateway posts had been planted. Surrounding that spot, a vast forest rolled over most of the world. Huge giga-flora—trees that were several kilometers high—dominated the landscape.

The guards here were startled to see a visitor. They had an easy gig, to be honest. Not too many people came out to L-374, better known as Death World, these days. The Wur had once owned the place, and Hegemony had seen fit to settle the Shadowlanders here a year or two back.

The Shadowlanders were a nomadic species, a people who’d finally found a permanent home under the massive trees. They made revival machines, and now they made them almost exclusively for Earth.

Death World was, in fact, one of the most remote and unimportant outpost planets under Earth’s domain. The Shadowlander immigrants who lived here were war-like, but there wasn’t much left for them to fight over these days—or so I thought.

Exiting the outpost walls, I was immediately challenged by two female guards. They didn’t look too much like formal guardians, mind you, being dressed in sheer gauzy clothing with veils over their faces, but they were more capable than they looked.

I let the two women fuss over my identity, but soon they contacted the big boss-ladies, as I knew they would.

Faster than I expected, Helsa showed up. She pulled into the muddy drive outside the outpost walls with a squelch of filth and a shocked look on her face. “James? James McGill?”

“The one and only.”

She shook her head in disbelief.

Helsa and I had had a bit of an affair a year or two back. We’d taken to being bed-partners for about a month after the Edge World campaign—but that seemed like a long time ago now.

“If you’ve come for me, James, you should go back home. I’ve long since moved on to better men.”

“I very much doubt that. I’ve seen your men, remember?” I laughed, but she didn’t join in. She just looked kind of sour. “Anyways… I’m not here only for you. I’m here to ask a favor.”

“What? Seriously? We owe you nothing!”

“Come on, girl. That’s not true. Without me, you wouldn’t own this lovely, quiet planet. Worse, you’d be up to your hinnies in aliens and under Skay rule.”

We argued for a bit, and she soon demanded I get into her vehicle. I did so, and she roared away, firing mud into the faces of the gate guardians.

I held on as I could tell she was an emotional driver. The more anger she felt, the faster she went, and I’d kind of made her mad just now.

“This planet is a forgotten hole,” she complained. “No one comes here. We aren’t allowed to step back to Earth, either, unless we’re negotiating ludicrously cheap prices for our revival machines.”

“You can’t just come and go to Earth as you please? Really?” I asked, trying to sound concerned.

“That’s what I said. Is your brain working today? Is it switched on?”

She seemed honestly angry. I could understand why, if her people were trapped here. That had never been the way the deal was supposed to go.

“Uh… where are we going, anyway?”

“The moment you arrived, our guardians alerted my mother. As visitors are rare here, I was dispatched to play chauffeur—can you imagine the shame of it?”

Actually, I could. Helsa had a very high opinion of herself. On her home planet, she’d been a killer, a spy, and half a dozen other extreme things. Now she was down to playing taxi-driver for hog negotiators.

“Huh…” I said. “Sounds kind of boring.”

She slammed on the braking bar, and I went flying into the dashboard. I wasn’t wearing any kind of safety-harness—mostly because the ground-skimmer didn’t have one.

“Why did you come here?” Helsa demanded. “Simply to torment me? To tease me with tales of what might have been? To gloat with cackling glee at us for being marooned and disconnected from everything—”

“Whoa! Hold on, girl. Seriously, I came out here to get some help. If you can help me, I might be able to help you.”

She stared. She was breathing hard, and her bosom was rising and falling like a smith’s bellows. I tried hard to keep my eyes locked with hers.

“You can get us out of here?” she asked, daring to hope.

“Well… uh… maybe. I can’t promise anything. But I have new connections now.”

“We know all about that snake, Drusus. He’s not under your spell.”

“Drusus? No, no, I’m talking about political people. Public Servants—people at the very top of the food chain back on Earth.”

Helsa turned back to her controls and drove steadily with an effort. “I will take you to my mother, Kattra. If you infect her with madness again, I will have to put you both down. I swear it.”

“Not necessary. I’m telling you the plain truth. You help me, and I’ll find a way to help you.”

Helsa asked no more questions. She drove me instead to some kind of giant, hollowed out log. It took me a second as we drove into the short end of the massive trunk to realize the Shadowlanders had hollowed out a tree they’d cut down, a tree that had once lived to protect the Wur.

Climbing out of the skimmer, I craned my neck this way and that. I whistled loudly.

“Damnation! You ladies have been as busy as beavers. I guess hollowing out trees is an easy way to build yourself an office building.”

“This is my mother’s inner sanctum.”

“You don’t say?”

I walked around the carven chambers, running my hands over the wood. I caught a few splinters, but it was smooth for the most part.

“A lot of this wood is charred,” I noted. “That means you burned the trees. How did the pod-walkers like that?”

She bared her teeth at me. “They didn’t. In our first month here, three thousand of our citizens died. Most of them were ripped apart or chewed to pulp by these monstrosities.”

“No one warned you not to mess with the trees, huh?”

Helsa looked prideful. “Earthers warned us, but my people aren’t so easily frightened.”

“Ha! Three thousand dead later, are you still putting up a brave front?”

That’s when she drew a blade on me. Her kind liked to carry force-blades, and they were wicked-quick with these weapons.

When she’d suddenly decided to kill me on previous such occasions, I’d worn Rigellian armor. That alone had allowed me to survive—but I didn’t have anything thicker than a cloth uniform on today.

Diving aside, I dodged three sizzling strokes. One strayed too high and burned a black line on the wood ceiling. This slowed down her sword arm, and I rushed in to grab her wrist.

That’s when her other hand came up, holding a shorter blade. Left with no choice, I had to throw her on her back and spring away.

“Come on, Helsa. Your mother’s going to be pissed when she finds both of us dead on the wood chips.”

Helsa bounced back to her feet. Her sides heaved. “You make me so angry. You disregarded my wishes. You shunned my affections, and—

“Seriously? This is all anger about getting dumped? I thought you Shadowlander girls were tougher than that.”

“We are. No male could ever hold my attention for long, but I’m the one who decides when a relationship is over.”

I grinned at her. We were both circling, and my big gorilla arms were out at full extension. I probably was going to lose this fight, as I’d come through from Central unarmed, but it wasn’t for certain. I could tell Helsa was angry—but she was worried, too. I’d often surprised her in the past.

“What is this foolishness?”

A third person had joined us. Daring to glance toward the entrance, I saw Kattra stride into the chamber. She was the queen-bee of all Shadowlanders and Helsa’s momma to boot.

“Hello, your ladyship,” I said. “Helsa and I were just discussing things.”

Helsa stepped back. She let her blades droop. One of them touched some wood chips and a tendril of smoke wafted up from the spot. It smelled kind of good, actually.

“I’ve brought him as you commanded, mother.”

“I did not order you to attack him. I trust you are unharmed, Centurion?”

“I’m just fine. We were only having a bit of fun.”

I grinned, but the women were frowning. After a moment, Kattra forced a smile.

“I trust you are here in a diplomatic capacity?”

“Uh… a what?”

Her face faltered, but she forced that smile back again. “I mean, I’ve made countless requests to Hegemony. Earth’s government has promised a representative would come here from Central to listen to our grievances. That person is you, I trust. Correct?”

“Oh… oh sure! I’m here to listen to everything you ladies might want to complain about.”

This statement changed everything. Both of them started yapping at me—and it went on for longer than I could believe. Finally, I found myself sitting on a carven wooden seat and nodding off.

They were pissed about their trade deals, the lack of emigration rights, the cost of imported goods and the general quality of Death World itself.

I couldn’t really blame them. Earth had pretty much screwed them over—but at last, I found I’d had enough.

“Ladies… ladies!” I boomed, standing tall.

They grabbed for their sheathed blades instantly. I put my big hands up, imploring them for peace and quiet, but they half-drew their weapons in response.

Sitting back down, I laughed. “Look, I can’t promise you anything immediate. I can offer you a deal, however. I will go back to Central and relay your concerns to the powers that be in that oversized building. I know Drusus. I know Turov. I can get to their ears.”

“Yes, yes,” Kattra said, leaning forward hungrily. “Then do it! Did you record our statements?”

“I surely did,” I said, lifting my tapper and slapping it. That was a lie, of course. I hadn’t even considered recording anything. No one at Central gave a rip about their gripes.

“Well then… I guess you can return to Earth with this information,” Helsa said. “I will drive you back to the outpost.”

Kattra lifted her hand high. “No. McGill shall spend the evening here. I insist. You can go back to Earth in the morning, when you are refreshed.”

“Uh… okay.”

Helsa gave her mother a dark stare, but Kattra ignored it. I wondered what was going on. Had these two prearranged some plans of their own? It seemed that they had, and that they weren’t in total agreement over the details.

“Centurion,” Kattra said. “You mentioned a bargain. A price. I think I know what price will work.”

“Mother, please…”

Kattra put her hand up in Helsa’s face. “My daughter is very grateful for your assistance in this matter of—of miscommunication between my people and yours. I’m also sure you’re aware that she’s always had an interest in you, no matter what she might have said or done.”

“Uh… I thought those feelings might have faded away.”

Kattra shook her head. “No. She talks about you all the time.”

Helsa couldn’t stand it anymore, and she jumped into the conversation. “Only to describe how I might murder him!”

Kattra put her hand up again, halting Helsa’s tirade. Helsa glowered at the ground, pissed.

For my own part, I was looking kind of happy. “That’s welcome news, my Queen.”

“Very well. I will take my leave of you two.”

Kattra stood and moved toward the exit, but I put up one thick finger. “One thing, ma’am. Can I use your deep-link machine?”

Both women blinked at me. “For what purpose?”

“To relay the results of this fruitful conference, of course. The people back at Central need to hear about all your grievances right away.”

After pondering my words for a moment, Kattra nodded at last. She let Helsa lead me down several chutes and chip-strewn passages into the bowels of their hollowed-out log cabin. That’s where they kept a working deep-link.

This was the entire reason I’d come out to Death World in the first place. Along with a set of gateway posts to connect them all, the Earth-controlled worlds all had an active deep-link. Most of these were busy sending official messages—but not here. No one wanted to hear from these ornery ladies anymore than I did.

After shooing everyone out of the chamber on the pretext I required diplomatic privacy, I fired up the machine and began typing in a long series of digits and symbols.

The machine came to life. As it hummed, it placed a very, very long distance call. A call that went all the way out to Rigel, and then kept on going farther still.

I wasn’t calling Earth of course—I was calling a forbidden number. A number that only the strange clone race known as Clavers used.

The person who answered was cautious at first—but when she saw my face, she became instantly annoyed.

Abigail Claver and I hadn’t left things off on the best of terms. In fact, I’d been her prisoner, and we’d died together on a beach on Green World. By this time, she’d probably learned that I’d helped guide Legion Varus to her secret rebel base to blow it up. That sort of trickery might have been appreciated by some folks—but not Abigail.

“McGill? Seriously? Whatever gave you the gall to call me?”

“Well to tell you the truth, I think I was born that way. With extra gall, I mean.”

“I guess you’re right. What do you want?”

“Just to see your lovely face again. I’ve been dreaming about you, Abigail. Dreaming hard.”

She rolled her eyes. “Stop that and tell me what you want before I switch you off.”

“Okay, okay… but you are a sight for sore eyes, girl.”

I could tell she was enjoying my compliments. Lots of women complained when I flattered them, but they almost always believed it. And even if they didn’t, they appreciated the effort.

“Come on, talk,” she said.

“I need to talk to someone—someone special.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Who? And don’t tell me how hot I am again, and that you’re talking about me.”

“I’m talking about… your brother. The different brother.”

Abigail instantly knew what I was talking about. She had a brother known as Claver-X. He was different because he’d made her, and he’d worked hard to find her again. Sometimes I thought, just maybe, they had a wrongful sort of interest in each other—but I didn’t like to think about that, and I’d never asked them about it, either.

When I hinted around about talking to Claver-X, Abigail suddenly changed her demeanor. She’d been kind of annoyed and kind of playful up until this point, but now she seemed honestly scared.

She leaned close to the camera pickup and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, James. This conversation is at an end.”

That was it. The screen went blank. I tried calling her a few more times, but she didn’t answer.

“Huh…” I said, staring at the screen.

Just then, the door opened behind me. “Are you finished?” Helsa demanded.

She had her arms crossed over her bosom, and she looked upset.

“Uh… I sure am! It’s all arranged, Earth is on the case.”

“Who was she?”

I blinked, and I swallowed. Damn. I must’ve been out of practice with lying. I had to pick up my game if I was going to get off Death World in one piece. The entire reason I’d come here was to make a deep-link call they couldn’t trace from Central. I’d managed that, but with no worthwhile results. If I ended up getting murdered on top of it all—well, it wouldn’t be a good kickoff for my investigation.

My mind began racing. I figured Helsa must have seen Abigail’s face, but probably hadn’t recognized her or heard our words or traced the location I was calling to. If she’d done any of that, she’d have been more than a little miffed.

Maybe she’d glanced in over my shoulder, or something. I was really glad I hadn’t kissed the screen or anything else stupid.

“You mean the girl I called just now?” I asked. “She’s Drusus’ secretary. She’ll relay the information to Drusus, don’t you worry about that.”

“Secretary? She wasn’t in a uniform.”

“Yeah… well… Drusus is like many powerful men from Earth, see. He likes to keep his ladies, uh…”

“That’s disgusting. Males from Earth are disgusting.”

“Yep. We are that.”

Standing suddenly, I moved to exit the chamber. I didn’t want her checking the machine or my story.

Helsa stepped aside and followed me into the passages. The floor down here was littered with so many woodchips it was like being inside a hamster cage.

“You can give me a ride back to the outpost, right? So I can gate back to Earth?”

Helsa glanced down at the splintery floor. “Of course. If that’s what you want…”

I smiled slightly. Was that a disappointed tone in her voice? I thought that it was.

Taking a chance, I reached out a hand to touch her chin. “That is,” I said, “unless you’d rather have me spend the night.”

She pulled her chin away, but not angrily. “It’s up to you. My mother made the offer.”

I threw my hands wide. She flinched, but she didn’t back up. She was a brave, feisty woman.

“No!” I boomed. “I know Kattra ordered you to sleep with me, but that’s bullshit. I want it to be your choice, not hers. I await your decision.”

She looked surprised. She stared up at me, and I knew she was thinking it over. Finally, she looked at my boots and shrugged. “You can stay… if you want to.”

That was all the urging I needed and then some. I slipped one long arm around her waist, and we walked together upstairs to her sleeping compartments.

That night, I got more than one splinter stuck in my hide—but it was worth it.

-11-

By the time I returned to Central the next morning, I’d almost forgotten why I’d stepped out to Death World in the first place.

Galina Turov, however, had not forgotten a thing. She’d set an alert set to go off upon my return, and I hadn’t managed to take three steps past the check-point hogs Earth-side before my tapper began to buzz.

“Where have you been?” Galina demanded, staring up out of my forearm with suspicion.

“Uh…” I said, forming up a new raft of lies. I decided to try bluster first. “Look Galina, I’m working a case here. If you want to find out where some off-world aliens got certain items, that means I’m going to have to step off-world now and then. You get that, don’t you?”

Her eyes were as narrow as a cat’s when you tap it on the nose.

“I get that, yes. But my question still stands. Where did you go?”

“To Death World.”

“Death World…? What is on…? Oh… Seriously? You went to visit that little slut with the cat ears?”

“No, sir. I went to place an untraceable call.”

“An untraceable… oh.”

She thought that over, and I could almost see the gears working inside her busy, somewhat-evil mind. She nodded at last, having come to some kind of sinister conclusion of her own. That was a gift that smart, unscrupulous people everywhere seemed to have. They were good at coming up with nasty motivations for anyone’s actions.

“All right. I don’t want to know the details,” she said at last. “Just tell me: have you found the source yet?”

I blinked. “The source of what?”

“The coins, you idiot.”

“Oh yeah, that… not yet. I think I’m going to have to step out again.”

“What?” she squawked.

“Come on, just tell the hogs I’m busy playing diplomat or something.”

“Where are you going this time?”

I shrugged. “Do you really want to know? Do you want your name on the record, here?”

Galina thought that over, and she shook her head. “No. Go out to the stars, and don’t come back without answers.”

Ending the conversation, I stretched and yawned. After all, I really hadn’t slept much the night before.

Then, after gathering certain key equipment from the local Gray Deck—namely, a short-range teleport harness—I walked to the room full of gateways and chose a different one.

Gritting my teeth, I stepped in-between the posts and destroyed myself… again.

A moment later I found myself on a beach at sunset. That was confusing, as it’d been mid-morning on Earth and dawn on Death World. World-hopping was kind of like time-travel in a way. If you went far enough out to reach another planet, it was almost always a different time of day when you got there.

I walked the beaches for a moment. I knew the island well. I was on Green World, and we’d fought a hard battle here just a year or so back.

There were bones on the beaches. Some were human skeletons, but you hardly noticed them. Much more impressive were the massive piles of cartilage that formed hills here and there, half-in and half-out of the water. These were massive aliens, things we’d referred to as Kraken. They were deep-sea creatures that had taken a powerful dislike to our human encampment. After a savage fight, we’d driven them off, but the beach still gave me an uneasy feeling.

Walking around a bit more, I got my bearings. Moving to the highest spot on the island, I began to work certain calculations.

Checking and rechecking, I finally decided to risk it. I typed the coordinates into my teleport harness, and I put on the pressure suit I’d brought with me.

Fortunately, this time I didn’t have to do any math. Not really. I’d already been to the spot I was planning to visit now, so my tapper had the location in memory.

Of course, jumping down into a dark ocean was still risky, but I didn’t know what else to try.

Slapping down my visor and gritting my teeth, I touched the actuator. Green World began to pulse and throb. The bluish light grew brighter and more intense with every pulse.

Finally, I winked out and was transported someplace else.

Daring to open my eyes, I already knew I’d hit my destination, or somewhere close.

I was suspended in liquid. A thin liquid, a medium that felt lighter than water, but thicker than air. Opening my eyes, I swiveled my head and had a look around.

It was pitch black. I almost fell over—it was a close thing.

Cursing, I switched on my suit lights. I hadn’t thought to do that, and they weren’t set to automatic in order to save the batteries when you stored the suit.

Anyway, the undersea scene flared into life. I turned slowly, frowning…

Then I froze. I’d almost taken a step. That could be a terrifying mistake when you were thousands of meters down.

Very carefully, with one boot suspended over the ocean floor, I looked down as best I could. Pressure suits are bulky, even in my slice of history, and it was hard to see my boots—but I managed it.

“Holy shit…”

My boots weren’t the problem. It was the gleaming metal line below them that freaked me out.

The railway—the metal line between light, fluffy water and instant death—it was right under my left boot. Worst, I’d lifted my right to take a step, and it was tipping into the danger zone.

Or was it? I wasn’t sure.

The problem was I’d missed a bit. I was in the underwater tunnel on Green World, the place where I’d once marched my unit to the distant bottom of this strange sea. To step over the lines was to die—but which way was the wrong way? Behind me, or in front of me?

Wracked with indecision, I tried to find a visual clue. Was the pressure viciously increased to my rear or in front of me?

I couldn’t tell. The seabed looked pretty much the same. Sure, there was a line where the border could be seen, but that wasn’t helpful. I couldn’t tell which way was safe, and which way wasn’t.

Breathing so hard I steamed up my helmet, I tried to think of an easy way out of my troubles. To start with, I gently, ever so gently, lowered my right boot. I placed it on the rail, exactly where the left was resting. No more over the line, or less over the line. I did this slowly, with an abundance of caution.

I felt a smidgen of relief when my boot was down safely. I hadn’t died yet, and if I’d left my boot hanging above the seabed, I’d eventually get tired and off-balance. That could have led to a deadly fall.

Now, I had time to think. I could swear that I could feel my heart beating in my ears, if that was even possible.

“Come on,” I whispered to myself. “This was your idea, brain. Don’t freeze up now.”

This was just the sort of thing that had happened to me all my life. I’d often come up with ingenious schemes—but then I executed them with moronic incompetence. Many cases were like this one, where I’d done something truly impressive, but I hadn’t thought it all the way through.

Calming down, I finally made a decision. I was going to have to sacrifice something. Some part of my often-abused body was going to have to experiment, reaching forward or backward until there was a pinch—or crushing agony, as the case may be.

With luck, I told myself, I wouldn’t feel a thing. I’d simply find no pressure increase, and I’d know that direction was safe. It was fifty-fifty—maybe even better, if my instincts were right and I chose wisely.

Still, I hesitated. If you want to know why, try reaching for a knife, then extending an finger and pressing the blade down on it. That takes some doing, let me tell you.

I spent about five minutes just deciding what part of my body was going to go first. No one seemed eager. My fingers? I needed them, right? Gripping a gun, pressing a button—these were vital functions for a spacer.

My mind drifted down to consider my toes. They were definitely less valuable. But… I couldn’t very well separate the pack of five on either foot. That meant they were all likely to be crushed. A crippled foot, that’s what I was talking about. What good was a soldier with a painful limp?

“What’s it going to be, McGill? Your dick?”

Heaving a sigh, I came to a fateful decision. I reached forward with my left hand, and I extended my pinkie.

It’s always the pinkie, isn’t it? Everyone disdains the pinkie. Ask anyone what finger they would cut off if they had to—pinkie, every time.

Cursing up a blue streak and regretting the life choices that brought me to this point, I slid my finger farther and farther away.

One centimeter, two… ten?

This was going well. I dared to smile. After all this gut-wrenching, I now calculated there was a good chance I’d guessed right and there was nothing but harmless water ahead of me. My heels were teetering on utter destruction and death, of course, but that was something I could accept, if I could only be certain salvation was directly ahead.

After reaching quite a distance, I almost took a step forward. Almost.

But something stopped me. I knew I should be cautious. I needed to know for sure. Accordingly, I leaned forward, extending that one wriggling digit as far from my body as I could.

That’s when something bit me. Bit me hard.

At least, that’s what it felt like. The tip of my finger—it had been crushed. Like someone with a pair of pliers had gotten hold of that stick of meat and bone and given it a hard squeeze with metal clamps sinking in from every direction.

But with normal pliers, the crushing would have come from only two directions—this was worse. It was compression from all directions at once.

Roaring, I pulled my hand back—but it didn’t come free. It was stuck there, clamped in the teeth of whatever gravity-effect I was dealing with.

I knew that the aliens who dwelled here could control water the way humans controlled metal. They could flatten it, mold it, shape it—even make a wall of pure compressed water if they wanted to.

Somehow, they’d used that power here, transforming normal seawater into a solid, and I’d just poked my finger into their physics-bending effect.

I howled. I twisted my finger, and I pulled on it. The bone broke, the fabric of my suit stretched and blood flowed inside the glove—but the wall of water held on.

Finally, hissing, I drew my combat knife and slashed myself free.  A puff of dark stain drifted away. My blood mixed and floated with the currents until my suit sensed the leak and sealed itself.

Worse, infinitely worse, I fell backward. I’d been pulling so hard to escape, I was off balance.

The knife clinked on the seabed, and my ass landed on the blade—that could have been the funniest death of my illustrious career, but chance helped me for once. The blade hadn’t landed with the sharp edge pointing up.

Sighing and breathing hard, I lay back on the floor of the alien ocean. After maybe thirty seconds, I started laughing. Then I got up and sheathed my knife.

It was a full ten minutes after I’d arrived at this point in the underwater tunnel, a spot where my men had once fought for their lives, that I finally began trudging deeper. I soon came to the larger, open area. I looked around, flexing my fingers and wincing at the damaged pinkie. That was going to hurt until I managed to die again someday.

The place was disappointingly empty. I found a few empty magazines, mostly for snap-rifles. There were lots of tracks, both from humans and dog-men. Here and there, a dark stain lingered on the sands, or a knife was stuck in the seabed.

Overall, the entire trip was a waste. I’d hoped that the Clavers had set up camp here, but it wasn’t evident they ever had. Sure, they’d marched up an army of dog-men using these tunnels, and no doubt they’d used this very landing to set them on the battlefield—but there wasn’t any sign of an encampment now.

The rebels had moved on, just as we Earthlings had.

“Shit…” I said aloud, mumbling the word under my breath.

I shook my fingers out a few times, wincing in pain. Damn, that hurt.

Turning away, I faced the upward slope. That passage—it was haunting. I’d spent many hours climbing that pathway in the past, and I had no intention of doing it all over again. Accordingly, I reached toward my teleport harness. It still had a charge—more than half a charge—plenty to get me out of here and back up to the surface.

It was when I was fooling with my harness that I saw it.

Something big, shadowy, and frightening hung over the pathway back to the surface. I knew in an instant what it was—a sea monster. A creature of the type we’d fought to a standstill on the island’s beaches far above.

My right index finger hovered over the single activation button. All I had to do was press it, and I’d be transported back up to the beaches, to the distant land of light and air.

But my finger hesitated. It was as if it had a mind of its own.

A stupid one.

-12-

“Hey!” I shouted inside my helmet. I waved my long arms over my head, trying to get the monster’s attention. “Hey you, over here!”

Now, before anyone goes off and accuses me of suffering from a classic case of total retardation, I’ll point out that I did have my teleport harness primed and ready to go. I could’ve teleported out of there in a moment’s notice if I had to—provided I got at least a one-second warning.

That was about what I got, as it turned out. The monster suddenly swooped in my direction.

The creature was terrifying and so much faster moving than these things had been on land. In the water, all of its gangly lack of balance and ponderous pace had been replaced by speed and grace. A powerful surge of those big tentacles sent it in my direction, and it hovered over me, near to the protective tunnel that enclosed my comparatively tiny person.

Stumbling back a single step in alarm, I stood my ground. I gazed up at the monster, looking for an eyeball or a face—something to focus on.

The bulk of it was tremendous. Each of these monsters weighed hundreds of tons. They were like battleships of flesh, cruising around down here in the lowest seas.

Sure, I knew he might crush me. He could slap me with a tentacle, maybe. Sending an appendage through the tunnel would probably hurt, maybe even sever the tentacle. But the monster had lots of tentacles, and I had only one small human body. If this fellow was the vengeful type, he might consider it a good deal. After all, we’d slaughtered a lot of his brothers up on the island beaches.

Curiosity saved me in the end, I think. The creature loomed, and it rippled—sliding to the right and the left. I saw a few eyes, and I got the feeling it was puzzling out what I was up to. I was a lone man in its territory, and I didn’t seem frightened. How could that not intrigue any thinking being?

At last, after I’d gotten tired of waving my arms around, I tried some squid-talk. Our suits had been equipped with hydrophones, just in case we ever needed to talk to members of Earth’s zoo-legions underwater. My tapper was programmed to send and receive speech in the Cephalopod language—or squid-talk, as most people called it.

The sounds I bleated out seemed to have an effect. The giant monster who was puzzling over me lowered itself further. The pink gushy parts of its lower anatomy brushed the top of my dome and recoiled. It must’ve been like an electric shock for the monster.

But still, it lingered. It had to be curious about me.

“Can you hear me, you big idiot squid?” I demanded, speaking slowly and loudly. “I’m James McGill from Earth, and I’d like to talk to you about something.”

The beast didn’t answer right away, but then I thought I heard something—something impossibly deep and sonorous. Could that be the voice of this leviathan?

Working at my tapper’s controls, I maximized the treble and minimized the bass tones. That seemed to help. At last, the monster’s words became intelligible.

“…land-plankton… amusement…”

“Heheh,” I chuckled. “That’s right. I’m small and funny. Watch this.”

Lifting my feet from the seabed, I danced a little jig. Normally, such an action would be impossible in deep water, but the water here had strange properties. I managed to perform the dance despite my suit, the sea, and my near total lack of skill.

The giant hovering over me squirmed around the tunnel but was careful not to touch it. Waves of nasty flesh almost enveloped me making it difficult to see the ocean beyond.

I took no notice of this. I was feeling prideful, truth be told.

“Hey,” I said. “Are you a lady-squid or a male?”

The giant squirmed for a few seconds. At last, the answer came. “I am Lord. I am King. I am God.”

“Hold on, now,” I laughed. “You’re not my god. You’re just a big fish to me—and a stupid one at that.”

About a second later, that’s when I think the translation got through to him, he shot ink out in a black cloud and slid away. He loomed out there, acting kind of funny. If I had to guess, I’d say he was pissed and was waiting for a chance to get me.

A silvery wire dropped then, from the sea above, down into my tunnel of low pressure. It was a shining wire like a rabbit-snare. The other end reached up into the dark body of the monster squid.

“Do you know me now, human?” the squid asked.

The impossibly bass sounds had been tempered now, modulated by my tapper and turned into something more intelligible.

“Yep. I sure do,” I said, watching that loop of wire dip and come close to my faceplate. “You’re the squid that liked to play fisherman with my men a few years back. I’m here to talk to you.”

“You wish to speak? Then do so quickly, because you have not long to live.”

“None of us do, squid. None of us do. Say, I’d like to offer you a deal. A deal straight from Earth.”

“We make no deals with mortal enemies.”

“Ha! Now I know you’re stupid. I’m not your mortal enemy. The people who talked you into rebelling against Earth—they’re the ones that got your brothers killed.”

The squid swirled and churned all around me for a moment. It was kind of disconcerting. It looked like I was already deep inside its guts, being digested.

“Who? Who do you think our enemies are?”

“Come on. You don’t fool me. You can’t be that dumb. You know who I’m talking about.”

“You will be devoured. The water-tunnel will not protect you. My beak hungers to crush your tiny body to pulp and use it as nourishment.”

“I’m sure it does, squid. You’re a big talker. But I don’t like dealing with underlings, with small weaklings. I only like dealing with the boss-creatures. Who owns you? Who is your master?”

“THERE IS NO GREATER BEING THAN MY KIND, HUMAN!”

This last wave of rage and volume swept right over me. I was kind of taken by surprise, and I almost lost my footing. Outside the water-tunnel, the sea monster’s body pulsed against the walls and darkened as if bruised. The monster was hurting itself in an effort to crush me.

Had I gone too far?

“Hey, hey! Settle down, squid-lord. Your masters are known to you as Clavers. And they’re humans—just like me. You bow to them. You serve them. They tell me this all the time.”

Suddenly, the squid stopped squeezing the water-tunnel. It lifted away, and it became an indistinct, massive shadow again.

I don’t mind telling you my breathing was coming faster, and my heart was pounding a little. I controlled this with difficulty and stood stock-still.

At last, the squid spoke again.

“What do you know of the Clavers?”

“They are bandits from Earth. Creatures of low reputation. We shunned them, kicked them off our worlds, and now they travel through the cosmos trying to trick dumb-ass aliens like you.”

“None are able to trick one of my kind. We are supreme.”

I laughed, long and loud. “Really? Is that why we killed a dozen of your kind on the beaches of Green World?”

“Thousands of insects like you died as well.”

“Yes, but we all came back to life,” I said. “I was one of the ones that died. I’m feeling fine, now. How are your brothers doing?”

The shadow swept away to the right, vanished, then came back from the left. That was kind of spooky, but I didn’t let on that I’d even noticed.

“The Clavers died here as well,” the creature said at last. “This very water-tunnel was choked with their dead.”

I generated more laughter. I put some extra work into it, cackling a bit at the end. I knew from long experience that no alien had a sense of humor—not when it came to talking about himself, that is.

“Those weren’t Clavers,” I said, hooting a little. “Those were Claver slaves. Dog-men, that’s what we call them. They were bred or tricked into dying for their masters. Just like you giants.”

The squid-thing hovered overhead. I could tell he was thinking over my words, and he didn’t much like the sound of them.

“Why did you come here, then? You should have sought out the Clavers. You are an irritant and will be expunged.”

“Yeah, okay. You can probably kill me, I get that. But I don’t care, because I’ll come back in an hour or two. Too bad you’re so weak-minded. They told me back on Earth that making an offer to you would never work. That your kind was too large of body and small of brain. That you couldn’t grasp a good deal when you had one in your tentacles.”

“What… deal?”

“What deal? Tell me where the Clavers are. Tell me where their world is, and we’ll go visit them and wipe them out. Your shame at having served tricky humans will be erased forever.”

There was another delay, but it wasn’t all that long. Suddenly a transmission came to my tapper. A strange one, in a strange code. My tapper worked on it for a few seconds, then a long series of digits appeared. It looked like a set of Galactic coordinates.

Could this be where I could find the Clavers?

“Now, I have given you pleasure,” the monster said. “So you shall return the favor. It is a trade.”

“Uh…”

The wire loop dipped into the water-tunnel, but I was ready for that. I slashed with my force-blades, which had been sizzling at low power, waiting for this instant.

The wire drifted down to my feet, severed.

A moment later, the walls of the water-tunnel sparked and rippled. A fantastic wave of pressure swept over me. I could feel the water compressing, crushing upon me from all sides.

The squid was squeezing, darkening his flesh and exerting fantastic pressures. He was crushing the water-tunnel with his massive body, powered by sheer rage.

Just in the nick of time, my fingers found the button on the harness, and I teleported away.

-13-

Gasping for breath, I flipped open my visor and vomited. I had the bends, I could tell. That sudden pressure change—it had messed me up. Broken blood vessels had popped all over my body, even the capillaries in my eyes had burst, and my vision was darkening.

Doubled over in pain, I crawled over the beach toward the gateway posts we Earthlings had left behind. Once I managed to drag myself through them, I collapsed at the feet of some hogs. They eyed me like an unflushed turd.

“Centurion? You okay?”

I gasped a few times. “Blue Deck…”

“You got it, Cowboy,” said the head hog. He quickly made a call on his tapper. “Medical? We’ve got a cosmonaut here. Yeah… he thinks he’s a hero, but it looks like he got himself bushwhacked.”

The hogs on duty all laughed, and their laughter was the last thing I heard as I slid to the floor and lost all consciousness.

At some point later, I was revived. No friendly face was on hand to greet me as I came back to life. Instead, a critical eye peered through an instrument into my throat, then my ears.

“He’s an eight,” declared an orderly in a bored voice.

“That’ll do. Release him. There’s some imperator upstairs that keeps calling and hassling our staff.”

Galina.

She was the only person who was likely to both know I’d returned to Earth and to care.

Staggering out of the place, I rubbed the kinks out of my neck and shoulders. An eight wasn’t a perfect revival score. It was a little sketchy, and I was going to be sore for a few days because of it. At least the finger I’d gotten crushed back on Green World was back and flexing happily.

After taking a shower, my tapper began buzzing. I texted Galina that I was on my way upstairs.

Your story had better be good. That was all she said in return. It was kind of rude, if you ask me. When a man goes on a mission for you and dies in the process, I think you owe him a tiny bit of gratitude. But then, I’m old-fashioned.

When I reached her offices, I found a smorgasbord of hogs marching out of her conference room door. It was morning, according to the slanting orange sunlight coming through the windows on the far wall. The meeting was probably one of those dull, every-Thursday affairs. Just the sight of all those bored-looking hogs made me glad I’d never managed to keep much rank over the years.

After I knocked on the door for a bit, Galina finally snatched it open.

“Did Ferguson forget his coffee mug again?” she asked, then she looked up at me. Her face softened a fraction. “Oh… James. Come in.”

I did so, and I put my boots on her conference table.

“Get off there.”

“My feet hurt, and these boots are brand new. Even the feet inside are as clean as a baby’s butt.”

She made a face at me. “You obviously haven’t dealt with many babies.”

“Uh… you got me there. Say, how did things turn out with your family? Did the wedding ever happen?”

Galina shook her head. “My sister couldn’t go through with it. She can’t even remember her fiancé. Isn’t that horrible? They showed her pictures and everything. But she still doesn’t know him.”

“Huh… you’d think the guy could start over and romance her again. Hell, if I ever got a second chance with a woman who’d forgotten everything, I’d be a shoo-in. You could erase every stupid thing you’d done or said.”

Galina frowned. “Well, that didn’t happen. The wedding is off.”

“A crying shame.” I replied, trying to sound genuinely concerned.

“What have you managed to accomplish with your investigation? Besides annoying the Shadowlanders and costing me money?”

“How did I cost you money?”

She slammed her coffee down on the big table and glared at me. “They sent me a bill for your deep-link call. They said you used it under false pretenses.”

“Oh… that.”

“Yes, that. They also suggested you abused their hospitality… and you took certain liberties.”

“Uh…”

She had to be referring to my one night with Helsa. That seemed ungrateful, as she’d obviously enjoyed the evening as much as I did. After a moment’s reflection, I decided this defense wouldn’t please Galina, so I changed the subject.

“I learned the coordinates of the new Claver home world from a friend,” I told her, hoping to change the subject.

That got her attention. She eyed me. “How the hell did you do that while lying to the inhabitants of Death World?”

I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. There’s a method to my madness, that’s all you need to know.”

“There always is, and it’s always unsavory.”

“Don’t ever ask how they make sausage,” I advised her. “Do you want the coordinates or not?”

She puffed out her lips disgustedly. “What do I care? The Clavers aren’t very interesting these days.”

“They are if you want to find out what’s going on—with the coins and the Tech World people, I mean.”

Galina eyed me for a moment. “All right. Give me the coordinates, I’ll have them investigated.”

“Uh-uh. You’ll just take them to Drusus for some brownie points. Let me go out there and investigate for myself in person.”

She heaved a sigh. “All right. Why not? A few more pregnancies, angry calls and expense billings… That’s all I have to worry about, isn’t it?”

“Nothing more nor less.”

“All right,” she said. “But you’ll use the casting device this time. I want a recording.”

“Hmm… okay. You want to eat breakfast with me first?”

“Forget it.”

So that was that. I was kicked out of her office. After I consumed a hearty meal alone, I found my way down to the nearest unoccupied Gray Deck. Several of these sterile, wire-webbed places could be found inside Central these days.

Using a bit of charm and some muscle from Galina, I was able to get a team of hogs to strap me into a device that looked like the Devil’s own dentist chair.

In the end, it was less than two hours after I’d been revived when I was trussed up and fired across the cosmos once again.

I arrived at my destination relatively unharmed. Standing up from a crouched position, I was immediately unhappy. This planet was freezing cold. My coveralls weren’t up to the job of warming me up.

I stood in a cavern of sorts. Fifty meters off to my right, I saw a cave mouth. Dim, uninviting blue-white sunlight shined in from that direction.

That wasn’t the bad part, however. The bad part was the freezing wind and swirling drifts of snow. I hadn’t brought anything special for gear. I had a basic paper-thin pressure suit and a pistol. That was about it.

Cursing, I walked around and investigated the cave. It was a natural cave, of that much I was sure. It wasn’t some anthill tunnel, which ruled out Vulbites. They didn’t like it cold, anyway.

I was surprised it was as icy as it was. The last Claver worlds I’d visited had been warm, even tropical. This was an unhappy surprise.

Shivering a little, I walked to the entrance. Sticking my helmeted nose out into a wind-whipped snowstorm, I found it unpleasantly cold. It was going to be frostbite-city if I spent more than a few minutes on this planet. Fortunately, the casting device effect never lasted for long.

“James?”

I startled. I’d forgotten that modern casting was better than it had been in the old days. Years ago, when I’d been cast to the four winds, I’d gone naked, and the people tracking me could only watch. Now taking some gear was possible, and the crew back home could speak to me.

In a way, it was comforting. The worst part about casting was there was no way back. The teleport agent had to look around, showing Earth whatever they could find that was worth looking at, then get himself killed before the connection broke. If it did before you died, well… you were permed.

Even when things went right it was no picnic. The trouble came during the suicide. I’d never been able to shake the suspicion that maybe no one was watching me, and that I was killing myself for nothing—perming myself, in effect.

But the feminine voice in my ear today removed all those worries. I knew for certain that the nerds back at Central could see me.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“It’s Abigail, you big dummy.”

Slowly, I turned around. I wasn’t hearing Central at all. I was hearing the only female clone of Claver in the cosmos.

“Oh, hey! It’s great to see you again, girl. To what do I owe this unexpected honor?”

She had a pistol trained on my chest. I took no notice of this, giving her a hearty wave and smile. She didn’t return either of these.

“When we Clavers first explored this frozen rock,” she explained, “we landed at these coordinates. I figured if anyone blabbed and gave you directions to get out here, you’d end up on this spot.”

“Huh… That’s pretty smart. I did get a tip from a friend, and I suited up and came out here as fast as I could.”

“I’ve been waiting in this shitty cave for days. Do you call that fast?”

“Yeah, well… I did a bit of dying first, see.”

Abigail put a gloved hand up. I noticed her glove was heavily furred. She was properly attired for this climate.

“All right, all right,” she said. “I don’t need any details. I wouldn’t believe any of them anyway.”

“Uh… right. Where’s Claver-X?”

Abigail made a face at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. By the way, you used the casting device to come here, didn’t you? I don’t like that you did that.”

“Why’s that?”

“You should have used a harness. I don’t want people watching me from Central.”

“Oh… right. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be too sorry. Just in case you chose this method of transport, I had this cave shielded the moment you arrived. The casting crew can’t see you. As far as Central is concerned, you just permed yourself.”

I blinked a couple of times, and I felt a cold finger go down my spine. What she was saying was probably true, I realized. I hadn’t heard any voices from Central at all.

That meant no one was tracking me. No one was recording where I was or who I was talking to.

Glancing down at the pistol in her hand, I felt a bit annoyed with myself. This woman had shot me several times before. Damnation, the last time we’d met she’d killed me with a grenade.

“Aw, hell…”

-14-

The storm outside was gusting, and a strong wind whistled over the cave entrance. It sounded kind of spooky. Spinning mini-tornadoes of snowflakes came down into the cave now and then to die.

“Listen Abigail. I’m real glad to see you again and all that.”

“You already told me that.”

“But I came to see Claver-X—not you. No offense.”

She tightened her grip on her pistol, which didn’t improve my confidence any. “None taken, James. In fact, this Claver-X business is the only reason you’re still breathing.”

“Aw, come on. I thought we were friends.”

“Friends? James, the last time we met you tricked me, and I’m still ashamed to admit it. You brought your legion out to Green World, and you destroyed an entire army of my brothers.”

“Well… yeah. But that was different. I’m not in conflict with your people now. Back then, you guys were building up a rebel force to attack Earth.”

“That’s all true… but I’m not quite understanding why you’re here now. Who is this Claver-X you keep mentioning?”

So that’s how it was going to be. She was pretending she didn’t know Claver-X, even though they’d once come to my shack together. Hell, as far as I understood it, Claver-X had created her originally.

But as I talked to her some more, I became concerned. She really didn’t seem to know who Claver-X was. Hmm…

“Abigail? Have you detected any gaps in your memories? Sort of… large gaps?”

She glanced up at me, and I could tell she was troubled. “A few of my lives are hazy, of course. You can’t live and die all over the cosmos without a slip-up or two. For instance, I can remember the time Drusus had me executed, but I can’t remember how I got back home afterward…”

“Huh… maybe I can shed some light. Not on that one, mind you, but on another topic. You realize there aren’t supposed to be any lady-Clavers right?”

“Yes. Some of the primes here still hold me in disregard. They’d like to perm me if they could.”

“That makes perfect sense.”

“Why?” she asked with what sounded like honest curiosity.

I proceeded to tell her that she’d originally been created by a renegade brother of hers that I called Claver-X. The fact that she didn’t remember this detail—well, that was worrisome.

She studied the ice-coated rocks between us, and I tried not to shiver. I had to let her decide for herself if she believed me or not.

“That does make some level of sense. So many of my brothers don’t seem to like me. If I caused an incident simply by being born… but why wouldn’t I remember any of this?”

“They must have edited out some of your memories upon revival. Either on purpose, or by accident.”

Lowering her pistol, she sat down on a rock. I could have taken her gun right then, but then she would’ve stopped talking to me honestly.

“You might be right. The thought that I’ve lost my memories is very upsetting. How did you come up with this theory?”

“Well, for one thing, you don’t remember coming to my place with Claver-X. He’s the one who created you, so that’s kind of weird. The other weird thing is that you now mingle with the normal Claver males without being shunned or outright hunted. I don’t think they could have allowed such a violation of their own rules without a good reason, or a plan.”

“You’re right,” she said. “There has to be a plan. An underhanded plan. They must want to find Claver-X, as you call him. Why else let me live among them?”

I could think of a few dozen other reasons a crowd of conniving lonely men might want to keep a female around their remote outpost—but I decided to keep those thoughts to myself.

“I’ve been a fool,” she said. “I’ve ignored the obvious. I’m one of a kind, as far as I can tell. That means the one you refer to as Claver-X must have created me for a special purpose. But what could it be?”

“Uh… companionship?”

She glanced at me and twisted up her lips. “Rude—but possibly correct. All right. What am I going to do with you now?”

“Huh? Why, you could turn off your shielding and let me reconnect to Central. Then, I’ll be out of your hair. You can even shoot me if you want to.”

“That would be satisfying, but I need your help.”

“How’s that?”

“I want to find this Claver-X now, if he still exists. Will you help me do that, James?”

My face screwed up into a scowl of deep thought. I scratched under my helmet. “Well, I know how he behaves, how he talks, how he thinks. He looks just like all your other brothers, but I could probably spot him if I met him again.”

“All right,” she said lifting her pistol back into line with my chest. “You play prisoner, and I’ll march you into our camp. Deal?”

“Sure thing,” I said, and I raised my big hands high in a gesture of surrender.

We walked out of the cave, and the bitterly cold winds really hit me. I was envying Abigail’s parka, let me tell you.

The cave mouth opened up and soon we were standing on the side of a craggy mountain. This mountain wasn’t alone. A half dozen of its rocky siblings stood all around us, their massive bulks made hazy by the snowfall. There were gaps between these peaks, but those spots had been blocked off with tall puff-crete walls. The walls looked like big dams I’d seen back on Earth.

Closer to hand was the valley in the middle of these peaks and walls. The valley was filled with a forest of white-coated conical trees. These strange trees had meaty leaves and swollen trunks that were almost bulbous.

“McGill?” said a voice.

“Huh?” I responded.

Abigail looked at me strangely. That’s when I realized she hadn’t said anything.

“I didn’t say anything.” she replied. “Sometimes, James, I wonder about you.”

“People do that all the time.”

Shaking her head, she pointed downslope toward a huddle of prefab buildings that sat in the center of the forested valley. “That’s our camp. It’s miserable down there. This planet is positively unpleasant.”

I gazed downhill, nodding. I let my face go slack. If Abigail hadn’t spoken to me just now, then someone else had. There was only one possible source: my “guardian angels” from Central. They were back, and they were watching and listening.

“McGill?” the voice said again. “We’re getting a signal now. Who’s with you?”

I wanted to grin, but I stopped myself. Even if I died right now, at least I wouldn’t be permed. That was a big relief.

I thought about getting myself shot. I really did. I’d already wasted a lot of time here on this icy planet swapping stories with Abigail. With the visuals the nerds were picking up and recording, they could probably locate this world and pinpoint some good LZs for later—but I wasn’t done snooping yet.

“Damnation,” I said loudly. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here!”

“You should have brought a parka,” Abigail said. “You’ll get frostbite in that skimpy outfit.”

We picked our way down the mountainside toward the village. Snow fell hard and the wind howled. I had thin gloves on, but my hands were already going numb.

My mind was churning with every step. Before we’d gone fifty paces from the cave, I’d concocted my plan.

In my special case, coming up with a plan of action was almost always followed up by employing it. I didn’t have a whole lot of second-guessing going on inside my brain pan. Never had.

Accordingly, I tripped and slid on the ice. “Damn! My hands are numb, I can’t feel anything.” I said aloud.

Abigail followed me and I heard her small boots crunching snow. This next part was risky, but a man who knows a revive is around the corner is always willing to take chances.

Without looking, I swept my hand back and hit her in the ankles. It really was slippery where I was struggling, and she went down fast.

If I’d turned to face her, the odds were she’d put the gun in my face, but with my back to her, she was off-guard.

She whooped and slid. The pistol clattered. I scooped it up and helped her to her feet.

“James, give me that gun.”

“Sorry, Abigail.”

“Come on! We were getting along so well. Were you just full of bullshit when we talked about finding Claver-X? If so, then I should kill myself out of shame for being so gullible.”

“Nope. It was all real. But I work better alone in these situations. Let’s go back to the cave.”

She complained every step and made all kinds of accusations. When we got to the cave, I popped her tapper and borrowed her coat. She was really pissed after that.

“Damn you, James. I’m going to shoot you the next three times I see you.”

“I hear that a lot. But listen, let me just snoop around on my own for a bit. When they find you up here, you’ll have a good alibi. We can’t let them suspect you know about Claver-X. They’ll erase your mind again, or maybe even perm you.”

She looked troubled and rubbed at her injured forearm. I apologized and left her, and she flipped me off as I walked out.

“Ugh…” I grunted when the winds hit me again. The parka was tighter than a Burmese condom, but it was way better than nothing. My arms shot out of the sleeves and there was no hope of zipping it up, but I didn’t care. A good half of me was warm now.

Marching over the ice, I saw a spark off to my right. A moment later, one of the trees made a clicking sound, and a branch came crashing to the ground.

That’s when I started to run. A sniper was after me. He wasn’t very good, because I made it into the trees without going down and spraying blood everywhere.

Diving into snowbanks and wriggling through the weird fat pines, I kept working my way into the forest. Either Abigail had found a rifle, or someone else had spotted me.

“McGill? We’ve got you back on track again. Stop going into underground regions. The techs here have reached a consensus: these mountains are interfering with the signal.”

“Look,” I whispered. “I can’t really talk right now. I’m under sniper fire.”

“Oh? That’s interesting. So, this planet you’ve found is hostile?”

The snow in front of my nose jumped, and I cursed, plowing deeper into the trees for cover. The sniper was still on me.

“You might say that.”

Soon I found a spot that was thick with snow and needle-covered branches. I burrowed into what looked like a safe hiding place and waited. My breath was blowing out in white plumes.

The sky seemed to be darkening overhead. Did that mean the days were short here, due to a rapid rotation period? Or was it just a case of mountainous regions falling into deep shadow more quickly? I wasn’t sure.

I lay in the snowbank under a fat pine for about ten minutes. I tried not to shiver or blow steamy breath into the air, but I failed at both efforts.

In that brief span, it became significantly darker out. I was now convinced this icy rock of a planet had a short day-night cycle.

A twig broke as the eleventh minute began. I’d been waiting for this—but it still came as a surprise.

My left hand lashed out, and I caught a man’s boots around ankle-level. I heaved and tried to sweep him off his feet. Unfortunately, my opponent was equally cunning and quick. 

Instead of knocking a Claver-Prime down on his can beside me, grunting and cursing, I found he’d regained his balance and even put the muzzle of his rifle into my face.

I returned the favor at almost the same instant, bringing my pistol into line as well.

We were both sitting on our cans in the snow, blowing out big puffs of breath.

Now, any sane man would pull the trigger. Maybe I would win, or maybe he would, or maybe we’d both kill each other.

No matter what the outcome would be, I could then decide what to do next.

But I hesitated instead. This was because he was hesitating too.

“Claver?” I asked. “Sorry to drop in on you guys like this, but I was feeling lonely and bored, see—”

“Your words are unacceptable,” the Claver said. He was a prime, one of the smart ones. “I lost contact with Abigail, and now I find you wearing her coat. You’ve been caught red-handed, McGill.”

Uh… I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“Where is she, then?”

“Back there—up in that cave.”

He glanced upslope, and I considered reaching for his rifle—but I didn’t. I was already beginning to suspect something.

“Why are you here?” he demanded.

“Well… I think I’m here to find you. You’ve got a special interest in our mutual lady friend, don’t you?”

His eyes were firmly fixed on his rifle, and he fondled it for a moment. I knew he was thinking about killing me.

It was getting dark now, all around us. Damn, this planet spun around pretty fast. If I had to guess, I’d say the days were only around six hours long, tops.

“Yes,” he said at last.

“Okay then. I’m going to take a chance now,” I replied. “To show I mean you no harm.” Then I let Abigail’s pistol slip from my finger and drop into the snow.

Claver eyed that for a confused moment, then his face brightened. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

“Yep. You’re Claver-X.”

He laughed. “And to think everyone on this planet believes you possess the mind of a gibbon.”

“Rumors of my retardation have always been exaggerated.”

Smiling, Claver-X lowered his weapon as well. We both sat up cautiously, eyeing one another. We weren’t blood-brothers or anything, but we’d cooperated on several occasions.

“So, my sister is okay?”

“Yes. I popped her tapper and took her coat and gun, but she’s fine. Like I said before, she’s up in that cave—near the ridgeline.”

Claver-X followed my pointing finger with his eyes. “Lots of caves up there. These mountains are made mostly of limestone. Nevertheless, I’m going to take your word for it, McGill. You’ve got me curious. Why are you here?”

“I want to talk to you. I want to know why the Tau are roaming Earth looking for Galactic coins.”

He blinked a few times. “Galactic coins? You mean those big gold things? Those are illegal, McGill.”

“Don’t I know it. You used to smuggle them back on Tech World. You remember that, don’t you?”

Claver-X stared up at the sky. The winter storm had passed, and a few stars were coming out.

“Yes. I remember doing that—or one of my brothers did, to be exact.”

“That must be weird. Knowing you’re a split-person, living in different twisting paths on a dozen worlds in a dozen times.”

“It is strange, but only because I can remember having a different mind than I do now. It was about the same time as the Tech World fiasco that I first separated from the Claver pack. A few years after that, I created Abigail.”

I frowned hard, trying to do the math. “But that was, what… maybe thirty years back?”

“If that.”

“But that would make Abigail younger than my own daughter. How did you keep her a secret when she was a child? Where did she grow up?”

He laughed at me. “She didn’t grow up. Not really. She’s a bad-grow version of her brothers, like me, but more extreme.”

“So… she can remember being a male Claver?”

He shook his head. “No, I kind of reset her. Her memories began building as an adult woman.”

“Editing. You’re talking about editing her engrams. That’s wild—and weird.”

He shrugged. “No worse than perming a man, which you’ve done any number of times.”

I decided not to argue the point, but to my way of thinking cloning a female version of yourself and erasing her mind was downright wicked.

“Okay,” I said, accepting his statements for now. “What about the Tau? What’s got them all stirred up?”

“They’re greedy bastards, that’s what. Often, we pay for things using Galactic coins out here on the frontier. You can still use them in provinces that have slipped out of the Empire’s control. We use them as a universal kind of currency.”

“Hmm… so when Carlos started selling some of the coins on Earth, they found out and came to investigate.”

“Carlos? That card-carrying idiot started this? I should have known. The Tau have been sending agents all over looking for coins, but I didn’t understand the reason. The Tau seem to think they’re owed millions of coins. They’ve been snooping around, trying to locate our stash. You say they’ve been visiting Earth, too?”

“Yep. I had to kill a stack of them to drive them off-planet just last week.”

Claver-X shook his head. “They won’t stop coming just because you perm a few. They’re like foxes, they won’t stop sniffing around until your last chicken is dead.”

“Too bad for them. So far, I’ve permed at least ten, and they haven’t got more than a coin or two to show for it.”

He laughed. “All right then, if your curiosity and mine are satisfied, how do we end this conference? I want to go find my Abigail and warm her up.”

His choice of words made me want to wince, but I didn’t let on. I just widened my idiot’s grin and nodded.

“Central?” I said. “You listening?”

“We got it all, McGill.”

Claver-X looked alarmed. He couldn’t hear the response, but he obviously didn’t like the idea that Central was listening in on our conversation. To the best of my knowledge, he didn’t know about the latest advances in casting technology.

“Oh… never mind my nonsense,” I told him. “I named my tapper Central is all. It’s voice-activated now, see?”

He didn’t so much as glance at my tapper, not even when I waved it in his face. He just frowned at me.

“Why don’t you go ahead and shoot me?” I suggested. “It will be good for your cover.”

Nodding, Claver-X needed no more urging. He lifted his rifle and blew my head clean off.

-15-

The ghouls on Gray Deck witnessed my death and ordered a revive back at Central. Less than an hour later, I was walking and talking again.

“It’s good to be home,” I told the pretty lady on Blue Deck who took my vitals. “Say, you wouldn’t be interested in lunch, would you?”

She politely declined, so I headed toward the upper floors again. Sometimes I felt like I spent half my life in an elevator. That was the trouble with overgrown government buildings.

When I reached Turov’s office, I was quite proud of myself. I’d found clear evidence—in fact, Claver-X’s outright recorded confession—as to the source of these Galactic coins. What more could the brass want for a solid morning’s work?

But my whistling, smiling face faltered when I found Turov’s office all but empty.

“McGill?” Gary said. “Didn’t you get the memo? The meeting is upstairs—all the way up.”

“You mean at Drusus’ office?”

“That’s right. We’ve got special guests, too. They just arrived this morning.”

“You don’t mean…?”

He gave me a nasty grin. “Yeah, I’m talking about Nairbs. Governor Nox, too. They’re full of questions. Here.” He tossed me a roll of paper towels. “You might need these to clean up the mess.”

I snorted at him. “You held onto these for hours just in case I came back, huh?”

“That’s my job. It’s not good enough to respond to disasters. I’m supposed to predict them and be prepared in advance.”

The joke was a good one, so I laughed at it. Gary was a dick, but he usually played me fairly enough—not like some people.

Two minutes later I was back in the elevator, grinding gears all the way up into the floor four hundred zone. Drusus inhabited the penthouse, essentially.

When I finally got past Primus Bob, Drusus’ private butt-boy, I waltzed into the palatial office. My mood was still positive, as I felt I was even a greater hero than I had been previously. If the Galactics were sniffing our posteriors and looking for some hides to nail to the side of the barn, well sir, it was best to have previously lined-up your culprits and made sure they were far from Earth.

“Ah, McGill,” Drusus said. “Good of you to join us. Imperator Turov claims you have critical information pertinent to this investigation.”

“I surely do.”

There were no less than seven Nairbs on site, and they were surrounding Governor Nox herself. The fact that Nox was present in person was a shocker. She’d always been the cautious sort, having heard mean-spirited rumors that we Earthers killed Galactics now and then. These rumors were true, of course, which made it doubly strange she’d chosen to appear in the flesh.

Nox sat on a throne they’d probably gated down from her ship. It was a functional affair of unadorned metal and nozzles that looked suspiciously like weapons. As I watched, the nozzles swiveled independently. They must have been automated defensive turrets—miniature ones. I had no doubt they were deadly at close range.

The pack of Nairbs she’d brought with her huddled around the throne like a swarm of green seals cluster-humping a boulder. They seemed to want to stay real close to it, probably hoping it would protect them in the case one of us humans became unruly.

Nox rotated her bulbous, spidery body in my direction as I approached the throne. “Ah, the McGill-creature. Of all you speaking apes, this specimen is the most memorable.”

“Why thank you kindly, Governess.”

“McGill?” Drusus said. “Do you have information on the whereabouts of the missing Galactic coins?”

“I do indeed, sir. The Clavers have a huge stash of these coins. These days, the Clavers are camped deep in Province 929.”

Drusus opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question, but then Nox leaned forward. Drusus clammed up instantly. It seemed wrong to me that one of Earth’s highest level military officials should become shy whenever this bug-monkey alien decided to speak, but that’s the way things were.

“Hmm…” Nox said, poking at the virtual maps that were displayed on the walls and ceiling above us. “929 is the frontier zone between Earth and Rigel, yes? What evidence do you have to support this assertion?”

With a powerful flick on my tapper, I transmitted the raw video of me talking to Claver-X. He soon implicated himself and his brothers.

“Governess?” said the chief Nairb. “I’m not sure why these humans seem pleased with themselves. That perpetrator is undoubtedly human.”

There were some sharp objections from the brass. They whined about Claver being a renegade and all, and I almost opened my stupid mouth to add that he was part of a race of clones.

Galina caught my eye. She was shaking her head emphatically, and Drusus was doing the slow-shake himself. I got their message.

“Do continue, McGill-creature,” The top Nairb kiss-up urged, and he seemed excited. “What special quality do these Clavers have?”

I realized I’d almost let yet another cat out of this leaky bag. We humans weren’t supposed to have clones at all. Pointing out an additional crime wouldn’t make the other ones go away—especially not with a pack of Nairbs on the case.

“Uh…” I said. “What I meant to say, sirs, is that these Clavers need a good ass-whupping. They can’t be allowed to hide from justice any longer.”

The Nairb seemed disappointed. “Obviously. As our closest local enforcers, we’re assuming Earth will take care of this gross violation. Afterward, humanity’s collective punishment will be meted out.”

The humans present all blinked.

“Punishment?” Drusus asked. “For a job well done? Is that how the Empire rewards her most faithful subjects?”

At that moment, a surprising thing happened. The lead Nairb’s head popped open, and his brains gushed out. All the other Nairbs grunted and humped away to the other side of Nox’s throne.

One of the governess’ numerous foot-hand appendages lifted from her throne. She’d activated something and executed her lead Nairb.

“I apologize for my minion’s overzealous nature. The Empire certainly won’t press charges against Earth if your fleets and legions are utilized to expunge this menace.”

“You mean…” Drusus said, leaning forward, “that if we fly out there and remove the colony from this ice planet, you won’t pursue the legal matter any further?”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

The Nairbs around Nox churned in agitation. I could tell they wanted to prosecute us to the fullest extent of Galactic Law. They always did.

Drusus made happy noises, but Nox extended one finger up into the air. “There is a single stipulation, however. Earth must account for and return every coin gathered. There will be a full audit by the Nairbs to ensure this outcome.”

The human officers glanced to one another, and they suddenly looked significantly less happy. I could tell right off that they’d been planning to spend this fortune on projects of their own.

“Return the coins?” Drusus asked. “Return them to whom, exactly?”

“Why, to the Mogwa Treasury on Trantor, of course. What other result could there possibly be?”

Drusus nodded sagely. “I see. Have no concern, Governess. We can and will perform this mission. Representatives of the Clavers will also be brought back for trial, if you wish.”

“Don’t bother. We don’t want any records of this in a legal setting. Get the coins, load them onto my ship, and forget they ever existed.”

Everyone looked at Drusus. After a few moments of blinking and thinking it over, he nodded. “It will be as you command, Governess.”

Nox seemed very pleased with herself after that. Her Nairbs squirmed and grumbled, but none of them dared object openly.

That was the end of the part of the meeting that really mattered. The rest of it was the usual hogwash. There were speeches, a banquet and even some beverages served.

These last two caught my attention and kept me going long after the speeches had nearly knocked me out.

During the final hour of the festivities, however, a sullen figure arrived. It was the head Nairb. I recognized him as the Chief Inspector of the province, and I kind of hated him. That feeling was mutual as far as I could tell.

The Nairb had obviously been revived after his execution by Governess Nox. He was slinking back to the party before it was over.

He hesitated at the entrance. He looked toward the Nairb pack surrounding one of the tables, then the spot where Nox was dining with Drusus and Turov. He obviously didn’t feel at home in either crowd.

I almost felt for the snot-bag. After all, he’d been ambushed and publicly shanked by his own boss in the pursuit of what he saw as his legitimate duty. I’d suffered just that sort of fate on a dozen occasions myself.

“Hey! Chief Inspector!” I called out to the Nairb. “Come on over to my table.”

“McGill?” Primus Fike asked. “What are you doing?” He, Winslade and Graves were sitting with me at the same table. We were some of the lowest-ranked individuals in the room as most were tribunes and up. Like the kids’ table at Thanksgiving, we’d all been shoved together at the back of the banquet.

The Nairb looked in my direction, and he appeared to be confused. I made another inviting wave with my big arm. The motion was so broad and sweeping in nature, my whiskey sour sloshed over my sleeve. The truth was, I’d had a few. After stuffing my face and drinking my fill, I was feeling fine.

“I’m out,” Graves said, standing suddenly. He knew trouble when he saw it coming.

Fike eyed him for a moment, then followed suit. “I’m not so hungry anymore. Don’t screw anything up, McGill.”

“That’s a flat impossibility, sir!”

The Nairb was now humping in my direction. That put a smile on my face—or rather, it made my grin grow even wider.

“What about you, Winslade?” I asked. “Are you going to chicken at the approach of a dreaded Nairb?”

Winslade smiled. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he said quietly.

The Nairb arrived, and I offered him a seat. It was a special bench, really. We’d been furnished with these when we knew aliens were coming.

“Hello Chief Inspector. I’m so glad you could join us.”

The Nairb cocked his head in my direction. “Your happiness is misplaced, primate. We are not friends.”

“No, no, not friends,” I agreed. “But we’re both underappreciated by our bosses, aren’t we? Weren’t you around a year or so back when these same officers tried to get me turned over to the Skay as a prisoner?”

“Ah yes. I recall that circumstance. On that instance, your personal relationship with Governess Nox saved you. It was most inappropriate.”

“See there? That’s what I’m talking about. My officers tried to scapegoat me into taking all the blame on that day. Now, here we are on a different day, and Nox goes and blows your fool head off in front of God and everybody. It’s downright criminal how faithful servants like you and me are treated.”

The Nairb blinked a few times. He seemed to be thinking this over. “Interesting,” he said at last in his prim little voice. “You’re suggesting an equivalence between the injustices heaped upon you and I?”

“That’s exactly it. We’re like blood brothers. Hey, have you ever tasted alcohol?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.”

Half an hour later, I had a Nairb on my hands that could barely lift his flappy head from the tablecloth. Apparently, Nairbs didn’t just like strong drink, they had a real weakness for it as well. One glass of wine had this boy flying, and two had put him into a virtual coma.

“McGill,” Winslade said. “Stop feeding that alien alcohol. He’ll end up going through the revival machine twice in one day.”

“Listen Sub-Tribune, this is a form of bonding. What you’re witnessing right now is McGill-style diplomacy.”

To demonstrate my point, I put my hand near the sagging Chief Inspector, and he slapped his nasty green flipper on top of it. I grinned at Winslade. “You see that? We’re like blood-brothers now.”

Winslade had finally gotten bored with my newfound friend, as I’d hoped he would eventually. He stood up and stretched. All around us, the party was winding down.

“I’m taking my leave,” he said. “Watching you two has been fruitless. It’s like watching two chimps try to smoke a single cigar.”

Winslade stomped out at last, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d been waiting for him to leave for nearly an hour.

“Hey, Chief Inspector? Can you still talk?”

“Certainly…” he mumbled.

“Good, good. Listen, we’re blood-brothers, right? Besties, and all that?”

“We are like siblings born in a single pod.”

“That’s right. That’s exactly right. Well brother, just one podling to another—whatever happened to Nox’s child? I haven’t seen him this whole visit. Is he still around someplace?”

The Chief Inspector told me a sordid tale before he passed out. Afterward, I adjusted his sagging noggin before it hit the floor and split open. It was the least I could do for a pod-brother, after all.

Then I leaned back in my chair, thinking hard.

-16-

The next morning my eyes were bleary. I had a touch of a hangover, and I wasn’t in the best of moods.

Turov had summoned us all to a private meeting in her grand office. Every officer who ranked as a centurion or above in Legion Varus was there.

“Gentlemen,” she said. “When Legion Varus was last fully activated and deployed in the field, I was your tribune. Since my promotion to the lofty rank of imperator, Primus Fike has served in my place as a temporary stand-in. Today however, that all changes. The permanent leadership of Varus has been decided.”

Everyone looked at Primus Fike. He was the odds-on favorite for the job, but his expression was stony. He didn’t look like a happy camper who had just won the lottery. If anything, he looked kind of stern and dour.

Uh-oh. If they hadn’t chosen Fike… who had they tapped for the job?

Naturally, we all knew it should be Graves. He was the man for the role. He’d been an officer in Legion Varus since it was formed, and he’d fought for Earth before she even had legions. Hell, he was the oldest man I’d ever met—with the possible exception of Galina’s father.

But that didn’t always mean spit in Earth’s military. Back in the distant past—before my folks had been born, something had happened. According to legend, Graves had fought in the Unification Wars, and the powers that be had decided he shouldn’t command anything too big ever again.

Still, we all held out hope for a change of heart at the top, so our eyes slid in his direction. Graves, for his part, was wearing the same poker face he’d been born with.

“This has not been an easy decision,” Turov continued. “We considered numerous candidates, many of whom are present today. In the end, Drusus made the final choice.”

Alarm bells were ringing in my head now because Drusus wasn’t here. It was an easy out for Galina to collar him with the decision. Why wouldn’t she take the credit for this choice herself the way she normally did for everything? Well, there was just one good reason why she was palming this choice off on Drusus: because we weren’t going to like it.

“Brace yourself,” Winslade said in a sly whisper. He was sitting to my left with his arms crossed and his lips drawn tightly in a downturned line.

“Oh boy…”

It was a terrible thing to learn who your commander was going to be. That was true in any fighting formation throughout history—but it was doubly so in Legion Varus. Whoever the brass had picked to elevate—or demote, as the case may be—that individual would have the power to decide the time and manner of every man’s death in this room.

Fidgeting in my seat, I contained an urge to stand and demand she get on with the show.

Galina, for her part, knew she had a captive audience. Accordingly, she removed her cape and did a little thoughtful strutting around the computer table.

“Who did we choose?” she asked the audience, hoping to build excitement. No one looked happy, but she kept on strutting and smiling anyways. “Who is up to this glorious job? Who is going to lead the best legion Earth has ever had?”

That was the script, right there. Every officer who’d ever managed to ditch us had immediately started praising the hell out of our outfit the moment he or she was promoted. Never mind that before the day of their ascendancy, they’d spent most of their time grousing about what a pack of grunting animals Varus was.

Keeping her audience in mind, Galina hadn’t let us down with her personal appearance. That short, blue-white cape she was wearing not only displayed hegemony colors, it was also short as hell. Essentially, it formed a flow like long hair down her back to stop just above her shapely hindquarters. That cape, along with some serious high heels, gave every male in the audience something to smile about.

Reaching out an improbably long arm to my left, I rapped my knuckles on Winslade. “It’s you, isn’t it? I just know it.”

He slid his ferrety eyes in my direction. “As-if, McGill. Shut up.”

I grinned at him and went back to watching Galina strut around. Whatever else she was up to, she sure was making me recall some private nights with her.

“I want to say before I go on that there are new ideas taking root in Hegemony. For far too long, there has been an imbalance in Earth’s forces. A discrepancy that has never been addressed since the Blood World campaign.”

Now, she’d lost all of us. We sat around with our mouths hanging low, like baby birds at high noon.

“What the hell is she talking about?” Graves asked suddenly.

I glanced his way. That’s when I thought I had it.

An injustice? Surely she had to be talking about Graves. Hell, he’d been passed over for decades and decades. Could this finally be the day when Varus was given the leader she truly deserved.

“It’s gonna be you, sir,” I whispered to him loudly. “It has to be.”

Graves slid his eyes in my direction, but he didn’t say anything. Was that a hint of hope in those steely grays of his? It might be. It just might be.

Nothing about his demeanor had changed. His arms were crossed. His mouth was a flat line. He looked like a frog that wasn’t even interested in dinner.

Galina finally stopped marching around and pointed toward a big door offstage. “And so, let me release you from suspense at last,” she said. “Legion Varus, may I introduce to you your next leader. The best of his kind. The most efficient commander in the history of our sister legion, now and finally recognized for his talents and stellar contributions.”

The door slid open. It was dark inside.

My nose twitched, and I sniffed the air, frowning. “Uh… do you guys smell anything funny?”

“Sweet Jesus…” Winslade said. “This is madness. Total madness.”

“Uh…”

Squinting, I peered into the dark doorway.

“That’s right,” Galina was saying. She was really selling this guy hard, whoever he was. “He’s been with you for half a dozen campaigns. He’s fought on every battlefield you have. He’s served with unswerving dedication to our sister legion.”

“Sister legion?” I asked, still baffled.

Swiveling my head around, I tried to figure out what was happening. Winslade had a hand over his face. He looked kind of sick. Graves was just staring. He was as motionless and unhappy-looking as a thousand year old statue.

That’s when the thing in the side room began to slither forward. Big limbs churned—lots of them. The stench I’d detected grew in strength until it was overpowering.

It was the smell of the sea. An alien sea that had been bubbling in the sun for a long time.

“Meet Tribune Foam,” Galina said, “the most distinguished alien leader in Earth’s service to date.”

My legs stood me up. They couldn’t be stopped. I pointed a long arm at the stage, where a hulking Cephalopod was working his way to the top.

Some part of my dim brain knew I shouldn’t speak. Don’t think I didn’t know that. I’m  six kinds of moron on a good day, but I know what you can and can’t say most of the time.

But this moment was different. I was just too overwhelmed by what I’d been asked to swallow.

“Are you kidding me? He’s a friggin’ squid!”

-17-

After my outburst, you could’ve heard a pin drop. The audience was made up entirely of shocked officers, mind you, but they all knew how to shut up better than I did. Every last one of them.

Still, I could feel that the general sentiment in the room matched my own.

“McGill,” Galina said in her school-teacher’s voice. “‘Squid is not a word that’s encouraged—certainly not when addressing your legion’s new commanding officer.”

Slack-jawed and blank of mind, I was too stunned to even respond.

I’d lived for many years hating squids. We’d first encountered them on Dust World, where they’d made a practice of abducting and enslaving our colonists. Years later, we beat them in an extinction-level war, but they’d never fully accepted that defeat. To this day, I knew their kind plotted Earth’s downfall. They barely tried to hide it.

Some years back, Central had come up with the bright idea of employing legions of Blood-Worlders—genetically altered humans that were bred to fight. To lead these brutes they’d often selected Cephalopod officers, as they were highly trained in the appropriate techniques.

That decision had resulted in the raising of the so-called “zoo legions” made up of various conquered aliens and other freaks. To begin with, these outfits had all used human officers—at least at the top spots. Over time, more and more sub-officers, and men like Fike and squids like Foam, had been commissioned.

“Foam is a sub-primus,” I objected. “He’s not even a real primus. How can he be promoted over a man like Graves here, who’s been passed over since before I was born?”

Graves didn’t appear to react, but he did mutter something to me. “Keep me out of this, McGill.”

I ignored him. I was too irritated to listen to good advice.

Galina seemed unhappy, but I could tell she was trying to hide it. I think she probably expected some push-back on this insane decision.

“That brings me to another change,” she said. “We’re getting rid of the sub-ranks. All officers will be equal from now on, both in pay and responsibility. In Earth’s service, it no longer matters what planet you were born on. Anyone can become—”

“He can’t even wear a proper uniform! Ask him to salute! He’ll slap himself in the eye!”

Scattered laughter went through the room.

“McGill, sit down and shut up.”

Reluctantly, I obeyed. Looking around, I saw lots of shocked stares and gaping mouths. That made me feel better. The Varus team in general wasn’t taking this news any better than I was.

The big reason was the nature of squids themselves. They didn’t have any loyalty to Earth. They were doing a job, playing along as slaves until we let our guard down. At some moment in the future, they would rebel against us. Everyone who really knew the squids understood that simple fact.

Perhaps Central had figured out this unpleasant reality as well. Maybe, in a twisted and naïve way, they’d decided to head off the rebellion by elevating the squids. They dreamed that by making them equivalent to humans, they could avoid any future conflict.

To me, this kind of thinking was as shit-off stupid as could be. Showing weakness to a squid was like showing weakness to a wolf. All it could accomplish was to intensify their natural arrogant and prideful nature.

As proof of my concerns, old Foam was standing tall. He fixed us with his eye groups and long before Galina had stopped strutting around and taking credit for him, he tapped into the public address system to send his voice rolling across the meeting chamber.

“Humans of Legion Varus, know that today, and for all days forward, you will serve a new master. This master will be henceforth known as Tribune Foam.”

Galina looked a bit steamed over being upstaged, but she let Foam get away with it. That was another mistake, right there. I knew you couldn’t afford to let a squid walk all over you like that and retain his respect. Right now, on the very stage in front of me, she was losing control of Legion Varus. It seemed like that should be obvious—but Galina didn’t have much direct experience with aliens. She was winging it.

“I will be reviewing the ranks and roles of every officer in the legion,” Foam continued. “Those who I find lacking will be executed.”

Concerned, Galina leaned toward Foam to make a helpful suggestion under her breath.

Foam reluctantly altered his position. “Ah… that is, you will be temporarily executed. You will, of course, be revived to serve out your contracted time. There will be no escaping your responsibilities in this manner.”

Pleased with Foam’s edit, Galina retreated.

Fike had been squirming in his seat during the proceedings. He chose this moment of confusion to move a few chairs closer to me. “This is bullshit, McGill.”

“Sure is.”

“I now understand why you’re such an asshole sometimes.”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, sir.”

“Ahem,” Galina said, giving us both the stink-eye. “Now that Foam has been introduced and affirmed, let’s all applaud our new commander!”

There was a tepid response. Perhaps a dozen officers tapped their hands together, but this quickly died out. Fike, Graves and I didn’t move a muscle.

“Good, good,” Galina said as if we’d all cheered her on. “Let’s move now to the briefing. This is our target planet, recently pinpointed by Centurion McGill.”

Foam stepped to the rear of the stage, but he didn’t leave. He lingered back there, hulking behind Galina like a nightmare in a kid’s closet. His eyes were roving over the audience, and he seemed to be taking notes with one tentacle working his tapper—even squids had tappers these days.

Was he keeping tabs on us? Marking down who was happy with his promotion and who wasn’t? That’s what it seemed like to me.

But I didn’t care. I didn’t give him any kind of smiles or applause. I had no intention of kissing up to this officer, not even if I was arrested and boiled in his black ink. Of course, that didn’t mean all that much. I never kissed up to any officer—unless she was pretty.

Galina was getting into the swing of things. Star charts and province maps flashed over the walls and ceiling. “Our target world is quite distant this time. Over a thousand lightyears away, it’s much closer to Rigel than it is to Earth. Normally, we’d leave a planet that far away alone—but this time, we’ve been given a mission by the Galactics themselves.”

Winslade raised his hand. He’d been as quiet as a church mouse until now, so I turned to stare at him, curious as to what he might say. Galina reluctantly called on him.

Winslade pointed a skinny finger at the star charts. “Imperator, since when are the Galactics optioning the contracts of Earth Legions?”

Galina looked like she smelled a dead rat. “They aren’t, Tribune Winslade—at least, not directly. They’re charging us to take action. Hegemony has signed our actual contract, assigning the duty to us.”

“As I suspected.”

Galina turned back to her displays and ignored him. I could tell Winslade was annoyed by the promotion of Foam, just as Fike and Graves were. I couldn’t really blame any of them. Every top officer in the outfit had to be wondering why Central had picked an ornery squid to promote over them after all their years of service.

“The target planet orbits a small star in a multi-star system,” she continued. “The star group is known as Mintaka, which looks like a single point of light from Earth. Mintaka is also called Delta-Orionis and is part of Orion’s belt in that famous constellation. Fortunately, the target is in frontier space this time, not in a neighboring province. We don’t have to worry about border issues with the Skay.”

Winslade had his hand up now. Galina finally called on him. “Yes?”

“So… I’m no longer a sub-tribune?” he asked.

“No. You’ve been cross-promoted like all sub-level officers. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Imperator Turov. I’m glad for the promotion, sir—but I’m rather surprised I wasn’t invited up there onto the stage with Foam. After all, we now hold the same rank.”

Galina hesitated. “You do, technically. You are both tribunes. But Foam is now in charge of the primary legion. Legion Varus. Your outfit is considered an auxiliary in support of his.”

“Ah…” Winslade purred, “so my troops are still playing second-banana to the humans, is that it? So much for equality.”

Galina was finally beginning to get pissed. The questions were all off-topic, and they were clearly complaints about Foam. She’d hoped to slide all that under the rug and move on to the mission—but the officers present weren’t all that interested in any new topics as of yet.

“The clarification of ranks affects individuals,” she said. “You’re talking about changing legion to legion relationships. That’s an entirely different topic.”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

Pursing her lips and giving Winslade her patented death-stare, Galina let a few seconds of silence reign. Then, she moved on.

“As I was saying,” she continued, “our target star system is part of the constellation of Orion. If you look to the south from Central in the winter months, the star Mintaka can be clearly seen. The planet in question, however, is quite small and distant from its parent star. The atmosphere is fairly normal, but the terrain is rough, and the weather is cold. Most of the planet is rocky, and there are only a few shallow seas with ice drifting over them. Observers are already calling the place Ice World.”

“That’s right,” I said, speaking out of turn. “I’ve been there, and it’s colder than a witch’s tit.”

“Lovely,” Winslade muttered.

“Thank you for the colorful metaphor, Centurion McGill,” Galina said. “Our plan is to launch Dominus toward this distant target carrying both Legion Varus and her support legion. The transport will approach the Claver base, root it out, and destroy the criminals. This must be done through ground action, however. All coins are to be retrieved and strictly accounted for. Remember, they aren’t Earth’s coins—they belong to our beloved Galactic overlords.”

There were some moans and lots of shuffling of feet. No one wanted to die to make a big payday for the Mogwa. The whole thing sounded like a smash-and-grab operation to me.

-18-

Hours went by while better men than me planned out the assault. I fell asleep until someone kicked my boots out from under me. That someone turned out to be Primus Fike.

“Come on, McGill. The meeting is breaking up.”

“Really? That sure is a relief, sir. I’ll be heading out to—”

“Hold on, McGill,” Graves said.

Yawning and stretching, I noticed that three glum men surrounded me. The owners of these sad-sack faces were Graves, Fike and Winslade.

“Uh… what’s up, sirs?”

“Come with us, McGill,” Graves said. “We’re having a briefing of our own.”

Internally, I was already kicking myself. I should have bailed out quietly near the end of the meeting, instead of falling asleep. Now, there looked to be no escape.

Wearing an expression that was just as forlorn as the rest, I followed them out of the place. We headed down to one of Central’s infamous officer’s pubs. This one was located a hundred floors or so below legion headquarters, which placed it tantalizingly close to the ground floor exit. I could almost smell my escape route—but it wasn’t to be.

Everyone bought a drink, but no one did more than sip theirs. No one did except for me, that is. I downed my first one, ordered a second, then eyed Winslade’s martini in a predatory fashion.

“All right,” Fike said, leaning forward. “I called this meeting because the current situation is unacceptable. I want to hear ideas on how we can remedy our mutual problem.”

“Uh…”  I said. “What exactly are we talking about, Primus Fike?”

Winslade snorted. “Come now, McGill. Don’t play dumb. You were the first man on his feet shouting down that abominable alien who’s now supposed to lead us all into battle.”

I knew this, of course. What I was wondering was how far we were willing to go. Would we perm Foam? Or merely trip him up and report it to the brass?

Suddenly, Graves stood up. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I’m needed elsewhere.”

Everyone fell quiet as he walked away. I knew what the trouble was right off. Graves was a by-the-book stickler for rules. You just didn’t go around plotting mutinies and such-like without a damned good reason.

The moment he was gone, Fike and Winslade leaned close.

“We’ve got to stop him,” Winslade said. “He’ll go to the brass. He’ll tell them we’re plotting.”

“No, he won’t,” I said. “That’s why he left. If he’d stuck around, he would have had to rat on us. That’s how Graves operates.”

“Why the hell did he come to this meeting, then?” Winslade demanded.

“He’s got his reasons,” I insisted. “Rest assured on that score.”

Primus Fike eyed me seriously. “McGill, you know him best. Go after him and convince him to join us.”

“What does it matter? We don’t need him to pull a move on Foam.”

Fike shook his head. “Wrong. You don’t kill the king without knowing who you’re putting on the throne to replace him. Graves must be that man.”

My jaw hung low while I thought it over, then I closed my mouth with a snap. “It won’t happen. Graves deserves the honor, sure, but Central doesn’t want him to get more rank.”

“Why the hell not?” Fike demanded. “They’ve promoted me, Winslade—even you. If you’d accepted, you’d be a full primus right now.”

I blinked at that. I hadn’t considered the idea before, but Fike was right. A few times before, various pieces of brass had tried to make me a sub-primus in one zoo legion or another, but I’d refused. If I’d taken their offers, I’d be a full primus today. That was kind of a shocker.

“McGill?” Winslade asked. “McGill, are you in there? Tune in and listen, please.”

“Sorry, sirs. What did you want again?”

Winslade shook his head and looked at both of us in disgust. “Don’t you two know by now why Graves has been passed over so many times? Why he was singled out for today’s over-the-top humiliation?”

“Uh…”

I thought about lying. I surely did. After all, I only had an idea about the truth, not firm information. I knew, for example, that Graves had been killed and revived countless times. That he’d been caught up in that cycle of life and death long before the rest of us. I also knew that such men were sometimes mentally twisted. That they weren’t the same men that had been recruited so many years earlier.

I also suspected other dark reasons. Graves had been around before the legions… and the powers that be knew that. For whatever reason, they didn’t trust him.

Winslade leaned back and crossed his arms. “Don’t blow a mental fuse, McGill. I’ll simply tell you the story as I understand it. The matter is very simple but damning. Graves fought in the Secession wars. Worse… I believe he fought for the wrong side.”

Fike and I stared at him in shock. I’d heard rumors… but to hear these words spoken out loud was an outright stunner.

“Are you sure about that?” Fike asked. “That’s a serious accusation, Tribune.”

Winslade shrugged. “I didn’t serve as his comrade in arms, if that’s what you mean. But I have it on good authority—”

“Tribune,” Fike interrupted, “with all due respect, I think you shouldn’t be passing around rumors like that without official documentation to back it up.”

Winslade rolled his eyes at him. “Believe what you want to, Primus Fike. Let’s just say that there are reasons why Graves has been held back.”

“All right. I can accept that,” Fike said, “but we still need Graves on our side.”

No one disagreed with him, and for a minute or two we all worked on downing our beverages.

Finally, both of them looked at me. “McGill,” Winslade asked, “do you want to be led into battle by a squid?”

“Hell no.”

Fike leaned close. “Do you want your every action in this legion to be judged and second-guessed by a shifty alien who holds no regard for human life?”

“No, sir!”

Fike nodded. “Very well, Centurion. Then get up off your ass and do something about it. You know Graves better than we do. Convince him to join us.”

My eyes traveled from Fike to Winslade then back again. I stood up. “I’ll do what I can, sirs, but I don’t think it’ll work.”

Fike smiled a grim smile. “I have faith in you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Winslade said. “If there’s one man on Earth McGill can’t bamboozle, it’s Graves.”

I took my leave of them then, and I followed Graves out of the lounge. He reached the elevators before I could catch up, but as he was in my chain of command, I was able to trace him on my tapper.

Unsurprisingly, he was heading upstairs to Legion Varus headquarters. He usually slept in the barracks, even if the legion wasn’t deployed. I didn’t even know if he had a real home to go back to in between campaigns.

Ten minutes later, I walked into his office. He was sitting there surrounded by almost unadorned walls and a very neat desk. The only decorations in the office were three alien heads, which he’d had stuffed and mounted back when such things were legal.

One of the heads was a saurian raptor from Steel World. Another was a big insect-looking thing—it resembled a housefly’s head blown up to the size of a basketball.

It was the third head that caught my attention, however. It was of a Rigellian bear.

I whistled long and low.  “Damnation, Primus! I didn’t think the brass would let you get away with something like this. After all, what if we make peace with these bears someday. Squanto won’t be amused.”

Graves eyed the head in question. He shrugged. “When that day comes, I’ll put that one away in storage. I’ve got plenty more. I’ll put up another one that is out of favor with the diplomats.”

“Huh… yessir, very impressive.”

Graves watched me as I marveled at his trophies.

“What do you want anyway, McGill?”

“Huh? Me sir? Nothing. I was just in a curious mood. I was wondering… about the old days. I know you remember things almost every Earther has forgotten. Sometimes, a young buck like myself yearns for the wisdom of the ages.”

Graves snorted. “You only yearn for women and booze.”

“Not just that, sir. Although you’ve named two favorites of mine. I also like good food.”

“That’s right. I stand corrected.”

Graves leaned back in his chair. That was an unusual change of pace for him. He generally sat up ramrod-straight at all times. He was still watching me, while I pretended to be fascinated by his wall hangings.

Finally, he sighed. “What do you want to know about the past?”

“Well sir, a few things have always bothered me. For one, I wonder what it was like to be killed and revived—back in the early days, I mean. I’ve talked to some of the old souls about it. Some say in the beginning, it didn’t always work as well as it does now.”

“No, it didn’t.”

“They said sometimes a man came back twisted—that such men were dangerous.”

Graves froze. “Who told you that?”

“Uh… Claver. Armel. The old salts, as I said.”

Graves nodded, and he looked troubled. “It’s true. None of us are quite what we were. There are… gaps. Omissions. We’re all like copies that aren’t quite complete. Worse, though… worse are the additions.”

I turned and looked at him curiously. “Additions? What do you mean, sir?”

He shrugged. “When the old machines had incomplete files, they tried to patch the gaps. To fill them in with likely data. They don’t do that anymore.”

I thought about Etta. She’d been revived by her grandfather, and things had been missing. They’d used whatever they had—but it wasn’t quite right. The result wasn’t quite wholesome. The same thing had happened to Raash.

“Does that answer your question, McGill?”

“Yessir, but I’ve got one more.”

“What’s that?”

We locked eyes. “Primus, sir… did you fight in the Unification Wars?”

Graves blinked. He actually blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that one. “Why would you ask that, McGill?”

“Because, sir, I think that you did. What’s more, I suspect you might have fought on the losing side.”

Graves stared at me. He was expressionless, but he was thinking hard. You could tell.

“What’s the point of these questions, McGill?”

“Nothing, sir. I just was wondering why the hell Central would have the brass pair to promote a fiend in angel’s clothing like Foam to the spot you so clearly deserve. Then I thought to myself: they must be afraid of you. Or maybe you made a deal with them, long, long ago…”

Graves looked down at his desk. His fingers knit together. “McGill, your grandmother was right about you. You are one part genius.”

“Hold on, sir. Don’t forget about the three-parts retard. That’s dominant in my DNA, I swear it.”

Graves didn’t laugh. He didn’t even meet my eye. “I’ve led a long life, McGill. I’ve made mistakes. I have my regrets. I’m sure you feel the same way.”

“Uh… I’m sure I do, sir—but I can’t think of any right now.”

“Well… then my past isn’t as perfect as yours. Because of that, I doubt I’ll ever command a legion in Earth’s service. In fact, I’m pretty surprised they let me hold the rank of primus.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a crying shame, sir.”

“Let me guess, Winslade and Fike want me to become the tribune of Legion Varus, right?”

“Of course. We all do.”

“It will never happen. Tell them to come up with a new plan.”

Nodding, I stood tall. I snapped off a salute, and I left him. Graves looked troubled and alone in his office. I took a moment to wonder if he’d ever had a wife or even a girlfriend. To the best of my knowledge, he’d never even gone on a date, and that was a crying shame.

He was one of Earth’s finest sons, and in my opinion, he deserved better.

-19-

We called together the legion over the next few days. That was a fuster-cluck of the first order. People and equipment were all over the place. There hadn’t been any early warnings, so many of our best troops had gone to seed.

Leeson and I were going over the rosters in the hold of Dominus, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

“What do you mean Adjunct Barton is on the Moon?” I demanded. “She never takes vacations.”

“I know it, I know it. The girl is a robot most of the time—but not this week. She took off with some fellow she’s fallen for.”

My eyebrows shot high. “Really? That’s nice for her—but we’re short an officer.”

“We’re short a bio, too. Carlos ditched the legion, and none of the regulars felt like training for the job.”

“Can’t say as I blame them…” Frowning, I began working my tapper. Leeson leaned way over to see what I was texting about. He squawked when he saw the truth.

“You’re looking up Carlos’ status? Seriously?”

“That’s right. He’s been on a long-term contract for extended service. You know full-well any of us can be reactivated in a military emergency.”

“Emergency?” Leeson laughed. “What emergency? We’re flying out to steal some cash, and we don’t even get to keep it. That’s not a matter of planetary defense.”

I gave him a dark look. “Adjunct, you’re not supposed to know anything about any cash.”

“Carlos was the one who took the coins, remember? Just how quiet do you think he’s been about it since then?”

I thought that over. Carlos had never kept quiet about anything. If he ever assassinated the prime minister of Hegemony someday, he’d probably take a selfie with the body and post it to a live feed.

Checking the results of my status search on his name, I found I wasn’t happy with the results. “He’s in prison?”

My surprise amused Leeson even more. “What did you expect? He stole illegal cash and got a bunch of people killed. He’s lucky they haven’t permed him yet.”

“Huh…”

Staring at the data, I thought about what to do. Carlos was in jail, and he was probably going to grow old in that cell in Central City. He deserved it, sure. It was justice and then some for a man like him.

But somehow, it didn’t sit right with me. After all, Claver had tempted us all with those damned coins on one of our first deployments. How had that worked out for everyone? Well, Carlos had managed to pocket a few, but Claver had gotten away to stash the lion’s share. People were talking about millions of coins, each one worth a fortune by itself.

Rubbing my jaw for a few seconds, I tapped the emergency reinstatement request. Then I confirmed it twice. My tapper shot off a message, and the cat was out of the bag.

“Um…” Leeson said, studying me and my tapper. “You didn’t just do what I think you did, did you? Tell me you didn’t do that, sir.”

“I did it. I requested Specialist Ortiz on an emergency basis.”

“Aw, dammit. We were free of that pug, McGill! I don’t know an officer in this legion who would want him back, much less now when he’s a convict!”

“The records show he hasn’t come to trial yet. It might be months.”

Leeson leaned close. “That’s because the Nairbs are involved. They always make everything take forever.”

I nodded. I was already feeling a little queasy inside. Carlos was my friend, but he was trouble. He always had been.

Shrugging it all off, I sucked in a deep breath and stood tall. After all, what was done was done.

I pointed a long finger at Leeson. “You’re my second in command. I just solved our bio problem—if the request is approved, and his sentence is commuted. Your job is to get Barton off the Moon and back into our module.”

“Aw, hell. All right.”

Leeson got up and left the table. I walked to my private quarters and stared out my fake window, which displayed a fake view of the spaceport. The better cabins all had imitation portholes like mine now. They were completely convincing. Your eyes couldn’t tell that the window was really a screen—the resolution was too high. They even had streaks on the glass and weather effects. Sometimes, a shooting star flashed by on the far side of the window. Other times, it might ice over.

It was all bullshit, relayed from tiny camera pickups outside the ship. But like one of those electronic fireplaces, it was convincing enough. You soon forgot it was a high resolution screen.

Two days later, my module was full of bustling troops. Everyone was stowing gear and complaining. I signaled Veteran Moller, and she walked the lines slapping people and pushing them into line. This was our first roll call, and you had to play it straight when your unit had gone to seed over the intervening months.

We went down the roster, but I skipped Carlos and Adjunct Barton.

Just as I was finishing up, Barton rushed in. Naturally, I’d timed the whole sequence for the moment of her arrival. That sort of thing always got a subordinate’s blood pumping.

“Adjunct Barton? Last call, Adjunct—?”

“Here, sir!”

My head swiveled toward the entrance. There she was, pushing the door out of the way and almost dragging her stuffed ruck. She was only partly in uniform. Her cap was missing, as was her rank insignia.

I nodded and looked back down at the roll-sheet on my tapper. “Glad you could make it, Adjunct.”

She hustled to her spot in line and tried not to huff and puff as she stood at attention. She’d obviously been running all the way across Earth to the nearest spaceport to get here.

“All right, 3rd Unit. That completes our first—”

“Bio Specialist Ortiz, sir,” Carlos piped up. “Reporting as ordered.”

I glanced at the last man at the back of the crowd. Two MPs had just escorted him up from the brig. Lots of other people craned their necks around too.

Carlos lifted his hands high and rattled his gravity cuffs at us. Some people in the crowd snorted. A few booed.

I gave him a stern glare. “You’re not officially in this unit yet, Ortiz. You’re not even on my roll sheet. So, shut up.”

That was a lie, of course. His name was on my rolls, plain as day. Hell, I’d put it there myself. But you couldn’t let a man like him feel too comfortable. If you did, he’d walk all over you and then eat your lunch while you weren’t paying attention.

Carlos’ grin faded. I could tell he was sweating a little. I looked down and kept my stern expression in place, imitating Graves as best I could.

Ignoring him, I made an imaginary note on my tapper and then dismissed the troops, ordering them to stow gear and get their kits in order. We were leaving orbit in seven hours.

Carlos drifted in my direction about three minutes later. He had a devious look on his face.

“Uh… Centurion McGill? Can you sign my hall pass for me?”

I glanced at him, then back at my tapper. “It’s not up to me. The primus has to decide.”

“Graves? Oh crap. Why did they even drag me out of jail if this all might turn into dogshit at the last second?”

I shrugged, still not looking at him. “You can ask Graves about that. You want me to call him?”

“Fuck, no.”

I turned to Leeson and Moller, and we did a bit of routine cross-chat for a few minutes. I could tell by their frequent glances past me that Carlos hadn’t left yet. He was standing around awkwardly. He had no assigned bunk, no gear—nothing. He was wearing an orange prison jumpsuit and gravity-cuffs. Even his shoes looked like they were paper.

“Hey man,” he whispered to me when the others had left. “Why are you leaning on me so hard? I died for you, and I did it while implementing your crazy plan to kill those Tau. They were threatening your family, and I died in that aircar to save your people.”

I looked at him seriously. “Carlos, has it occurred to you that they would never have been threatened in the first place if you hadn’t gone batshit with illegal coins?”

“Well… um… yeah. But we’re still a team, man. Take off my cuffs at least.”

“Nope. You’re going to have to suffer for a while. Maybe some of the others will start feeling sorry for you. If they ask me to lighten up—I might relent.”

Carlos studied my face for a second, then his eyes lit up. “I got it. I got the angle. I’m down with it, McGill.”

He walked off and started chatting up whoever would listen. Most members of the unit avoided him—but not all. I marveled at his skills. If anyone could weasel out of a serious crime, he could.

Next on my agenda was Adjunct Barton. I walked to her private quarters and tapped on the door.

She didn’t open it for about fifteen seconds, and I was just starting to hammer on the thin tin door when it was yanked open.

“Oh… Centurion? What’s wrong?”

I studied her face. Now, I’m nine kinds of stupid when it comes to reading women’s expressions, but I could spot redness and streaks from tears as well as the next guy.

“Uh… I’m sorry. I’ll come back later when you’re settled in.”

“It’s okay. I’m just a little upset.”

I could have ditched it all right there. I could have nodded and started chatting our way through her squad organizations. We’d made some changes, and I wanted to make sure she was good with that—but I didn’t do any of that.

Instead, I looked at her for a moment in concern.

“What happened on the Moon?”

She sighed and signaled for me to come into her quarters. We’d gotten an upgrade recently and every officer had their own private tomb-like chamber to sleep in. The space was limited, being more closet-sized than bedroom-sized—but for a ground-pounder on a warship, it was first-rate.

“I’m sorry, Centurion,” she said. “It’s just a personal thing. I—it was a bad time to get a legion summons.”

“Uh… were you like… getting engaged or something?”

She shrugged and studied the deck.

So she had been getting engaged. My guess wasn’t hard to make, as the Moon was a favorite place to pop the question across our solar system. People did it every year.

Lately, of course, with all the destruction of the crater hotels and the new fear of the Moon as a Skay corpse, business had died down. People were still doing it, but they were either diehards or cheapskates.

“Aw now, I’m sorry about that. So, what’s the news? Do you have a ring or not?”

She shook her head. “No. We were talking about it, but the summons came in—and I had to leave him up there alone. He’ll probably marry one of the hotel staffers instead.”

Erin seemed despondent, and I understood. It was just the kind of thing that made life impossible as a legionnaire. You couldn’t live a normal life with kids and spouses—not for long. You had to make a choice. Either you served a few hard years and got out, hoping to live a normal life, or you stuck with it for as long as you could and took your chances.

The scary thing about quitting was the whole part about aging and dying naturally. Believe it or not, staying young for decades can quickly become a habit. You watched others around you fade away, but you were still vigorous. As time crawled by, you became more and more fearful of the natural course of life. So in a sense, you sacrificed it.

But it wasn’t all love and biscuits, let me tell you. Legionnaires paid a dear price for near-immortality. Don’t ever doubt it. We were like ghosts in a way, living out our routines forever. At least it was never dull.

“You could bail out, you know,” I said.

Erin finally looked up at me. “Resign my commission?”

I nodded.

“I—I don’t think I can do that. Not yet. I worked so hard, for so many years… it’s my life. I don’t know anything else. What am I supposed to do back home? Become a barkeep and compete with the robots for tips?”

I smiled. “I’ll come give you a big one, if you ever make that choice.”

“Just look at Carlos,” she said, and I realized she wasn’t listening to me. “They dragged him back in here—right out of prison. Can any of us quit? I mean, if they really want us—we’re trapped, aren’t we?”

“Uh…”

Her questions had gotten big—bigger than the tiny chamber we were in, but fortunately my tapper came to the rescue. It started buzzing with a priority code, and Adjunct Barton’s tapper joined in a moment later.

I patted Erin’s shoulder awkwardly. “We’re leaving orbit and going into warp. We’ll talk about this again sometime.”

“Sure.”

An hour later, the big starship thrummed to life and enclosed us all in a gigantic soap-bubble of warped space. The Alcubierre field stretched out space in front of us, and we were sucked into the void at incredible speeds.

Soon, the Earth was only a pinpoint in the rearview mirror.

-20-

The very next day there was a surprise inspection. At least, that’s what I thought it was at first.

Tribune Foam came to our module in person. Behind him, he had Primus Fike in tow.

Fike didn’t look happy. Not happy at all. In fact, he looked the opposite of happy.

“Uh…” I said, not quite sure what to make of the two of them. “Welcome to 3rd Unit, sirs. To what do I owe this honor?”

“You are an enigma, Centurion McGill,” Foam said.

“Not that I’m arguing the point, but could you give me a bigger hint? What’s confusing you about me, sir?”

Foam studied me for a moment. “You and I fought together on Edge World. On that day, I served as your exec. You performed beyond your rank, and I was impressed.”

“Oh… that’s very kind of you to remember, Tribune Foam. I was impressed by you as well.”

“That matches my recollection. However, when I was announced as the new commander of your legion, I was insulted by you. The very same man who praised me on the battlefield. Today, I’m here to demand an explanation.”

This was just like a squid. They were wimpy when you had the upper hand on them, but the minute the tables were reversed, they became high-and-mighty in a hurry.

“Well sir, it wasn’t because I doubt your abilities. It was a matter of justice. You see, we have senior officers in Legion Varus who’ve been serving with this outfit since before you were just one more egg in a squirt of jelly, waiting for your papa to do his business. I felt that others deserved this promotion more than you did.”

Foam squirmed his tentacles a little. “Your words are hurtful, but they are at least direct. So challenging. So disregarding of authority... Ruling over humans will be difficult.”

“Yes, sir. I can tell you from long experience we’re an unruly bunch.”

All this time, Fike didn’t say a damned thing. He studied the deck, only glancing up at me now and then. He seemed humiliated as well as pissed. I wondered what his problem was, other than being forced to accompany Foam.

Foam pointed a tentacle in my direction. I didn’t flinch, even though it was drippy and disgusting.

“You’re talking about Graves, aren’t you?” he asked me. “That one is a mystery to me as well. He is senior. He is competent. He’s also been passed over for promotion before. Fike here wants to know why, and so do I.”

My eyes shot toward Fike, but he was staring at his boots again. So that was it. Maybe there had been a showdown, and Fike had admitted he wanted Graves in the top slot. Now, Foam was towing him around. Maybe he meant to clean-house.

Standing tall, I stared at the squid. “That’s right. Graves does deserve the job. But he’ll never get it. You can stop worrying about him being your rival.”

They were both looking at me now.

“Explain yourself, Centurion.”

“Well sirs, Primus Graves… he has some black marks on his record. Things that happened many, many years ago still haunt him. The top dogs in Hegemony will never forget, and they’ll never give him a legion of his own. Graves is not your rival, Foam.”

The squid lowered his accusatory tentacle. “I believe you. People have said you are a Prince of Lies, but I do not accept this. Every interaction we’ve had has been full of truth. In some ways, you are more honest than most humans.”

“Huh… that’s probably true. If I feel something strongly, I tend to speak the truth.”

“Very well. You will continue in your role as centurion of 3rd Unit, 3rd Cohort. Fike? Cancel the dismemberment and execution.”

Foam turned away and slithered out into the passages. Fike moved to follow him like a whipped puppy.

I grabbed his arm. “Hey, Fike? What the hell, man? You told him about Graves? About me? That’s not cool, Primus.”

Fike snorted. “That’s nothing. Foam has ideas of his own. Harsh ideas. He plans to decimate some units.”

“Decimate? You mean like—random lottery killings?”

“Yes. He’s revived the oldest punishment in the legions. Now, piss off, and be glad you handled yourself so well. I figured you would.”

Fike hurried away after his master.

What a change a day made. The man had been plotting mutiny and assassination when Foam was appointed. Now he was a butt-boy and worse.

I shuddered—horrified at the idea of having to spend my days kissing-up to a squid. I’d rather have my entire unit go through decimation. It might do them some good.

Turning back to my module, I saw a half-dozen pairs of eyes watching me. Sure, they were pretending to check lockers and inspect gear—but they were faking it. They were all watching, curious as to what had just transpired.

I decided I wasn’t interested in their curious natures. They could work it out for themselves.

About an hour later, Fike reappeared. He was carrying a heavy burden. It was a sack so large it made him lean forward with the item stretched over his broad back.

“Hey Primus, what you got there?” I asked him.

“A gift. From Tribune Foam.”

He didn’t sound happy about it, but he did get my curiosity up. He let the heavy sack down, sliding it off his back with a noisy grunt. He then lifted his tapper and waved it in my direction.

“You have to sign for delivery, Centurion.”

“Delivery of what?”

“Your damned present. You want it or not?”

“Uh… sure.”

I signed, and he kicked the sack in my direction. It didn’t move much. Curious, I began to tug at the cords that cinched it up at the top. They were so tight, I couldn’t get a finger in.

“What the hell… who tied these knots?”

“Foam himself did it. Can’t get the sack open, huh? Too bad. Just don’t wreck it, or you’ll be toast with the quartermaster.”

So saying, Fike turned to go. The moment his back was turned, I whipped out my combat knife and slashed the bag open.

That’s when I saw it. Really, I should have figured it out right off. The weight was right, as was the shape and the overall mass…

“My armor! Damnation! This is the finest gift I’ve received all year!”

Fike threw me the bird over his shoulder as he headed out into the passages.

I dropped the sack and hurried after him. “Hey, Fike. Wait up.”

He didn’t stop, but he did slow down.

“What’s the deal, man?” I asked him when I caught up. “Are you really playing cabin-boy to that squid?”

“That’s exactly right.”

“So, you were the one holding onto my armor, weren’t you?”

He glanced at me sourly. “It’s not your armor, McGill. It never was. Equipment is owned by the legion. We’re assigned gear, and it can be reassigned—for any reason the CO wants.”

“I get it, I get it. You had this stuffed under your bed like some kind of whack-off porn-doll, and Foam made you cough it up. That has to hurt. But… aren’t you going to get a command of your own?”

He shook his head. “Probably not. Foam wants to keep a close eye on me.”

“Oh… that’s grim. Maybe you should just take a few deaths, or a solid stint in the stockade. Being beaten to death is kinda rough, I can tell you from experience, but at least you’ll have your pride afterward.”

Fike set his jaw and flipped me off again. He shook the finger in my direction this time, in case I didn’t get the point. “Thanks for the advice, Centurion. Return to your unit and enjoy your gift.”

I left him alone then, and I trotted back to my module excitedly. The truth was, I was kind of jazzed. This armor had saved my tail more than once, and I had missed using it throughout the Green World campaign.

As soon as I entered the module, however, my smile faded.

“Hey! Get out of there, Sargon!”

“Fits me like a glove, sir,” the veteran said, turning my way. He had the leggings on, and his right arm was already rammed into a sleeve. “Don’t you think a front-line fighter should really get this? I mean—”

“Take that off and move out, soldier!”

Reluctantly, Sargon shed the armor and left it in a heap on the deck. I gathered it all together like a lost babe in the woods and carried it to my quarters. There, I did a full systems check. Fortunately, the suit was in prime condition.

Smiling big, I stuffed it under my bunk and thumbed the pad on my footlocker. I’d have to keep this baby out of sight until I needed it. The suit was too attractive to riff-raff—it always had been.

-21-

Winslade visited me the very next day. He was a skinny fellow with an impatient manner of walking. I kinda thought he moved like a bird with a hotfoot.

“McGill? Can I have a word, please?”

“Sure thing, Tribune.”

I followed him out into the passages. He slyly waited until no one else was in eavesdropping range before bending my ear.

“McGill, I’ve been informed you’ve made a crucial error.”

“How’s that, sir?”

“You’ve accepted a gift from the enemy.”

“Uh…” I said, uncertain as to what he was talking about. “Jenny Mills did give me some after-shave for my birthday, but that wasn’t any big deal. I don’t consider her to be a danger to society.”

He rolled his eyes at me. People did that a lot, but they were usually women.

“McGill, I’m talking about the suit of armor. You received such an item from Foam, didn’t you?”

“Oh… yeah, sure. I got the armor. You came all the way down from Gold Deck to congratulate me on that, huh?”

“No. Not at all. I came here to warn you: Foam is operating as would a Cephalopod leader in their old kingdom. The squids don’t rule by fear alone, you know.”

“They don’t?”

“No, McGill… gods, man! Why is it that having a conversation with you is so difficult?”

I shrugged while thinking that over. “Maybe you should start at the beginning, sir.”

“Very well. You showed Foam you were competent in battle back on Edge World. Further, you’ve been somewhat complimentary of him since then.”

“Hold on, I told everyone he was the wrong choice for this promotion when he got it.”

Winslade flapped a few skinny fingers at me in a dismissive gesture. “Yes, yes, but you took his gift. You spoke to him just today as if he’d earned the rank of tribune—when he obviously hasn’t.”

I nodded. “It was sudden and unexpected. But he’s probably the best of your zoo legion officers, and I call them like I see them.”

“So you’re kissing up, hey? Trite, but effective. In any regard, even after you objected to his rise to power, Foam has become fascinated by you. He’s decided you might make a powerful lieutenant.”

“Uh… really?”

“Yes, really. That’s why he gave you an invaluable gift. To seal the relationship.”

I glanced toward my locker, then shifted my eyes to the deck. “Huh. That’s real interesting, Tribune, but I need to be going back to my unit—”

Winslade put a skinny arm up between me and the doorway that led into my unit’s module. That was a daring move, since he was only about a quarter of my size, and his arm would probably snap like a dry twig if I leaned into him.

“I swear,” he said, “if I had a million credits for every functioning brain cell you possess, I’d end up a pauper.”

“Uh..”

“Listen McGill. I’m here to warn you. I can see now that I must spell out the warning with crystalline clarity.”

“That would be for the best, sir—and it would sure save a lot of time as well.”

“Right. Here it is: Foam gave you that suit in order to buy your loyalty. That’s how squids do business. They don’t play fair. They bribe, they threaten, and they cheat in any manner they deem fit.”

I laughed. “Well sir, in that case they should feel right at home in old Legion Varus.”

“Very funny, McGill. I can see you’re not going to give it up easily.”

“Uh… give what up? The suit? Why should I? It was made for me, you know. It’s too damned big for almost anyone else in this outfit.”

Winslade put a long skinny finger up in my face. I hated when he did that. “McGill, pull your head out of your ass. Foam doesn’t love or respect you, he’s buying you off. Stick to your principles, man. He’s not the right alien to hitch your wagon to. He’s going down, and he’s going to be replaced by a proper human.”

“Like you, maybe?”

Winslade shrugged and looked coy. “Maybe. Why not? Or it might still be Graves or Fike. The point is, Foam doesn’t deserve the job, and he knows it. The suit is meant to buy your support.”

“I get it, sir.”

“Do you? Very well. Your role in the upcoming assassination hasn’t been plotted yet, but it will be. When the time comes, I want your assurance that you’ll be ready.”

“Assassination…? Hold on. Who said anything about that?”

Winslade rolled his eyes at me. “Come, come, don’t be naive. How did you think we were going to fix this? With a rigged lottery? With an internal press campaign to convince the hoi-polloi that they’ve been duped? There isn’t time for such absurdities. We’re going to take him out before he consolidates his power any further. Are you in, or out?”

“Uh… it’s too early to say, sir. I haven’t even seen him lead the legion in battle yet. In order to make a choice like that… well, sir, I need more information.”

“Fine. Have it your way. But don’t take too long dawdling, or you’ll be left out of the winner’s circle in the end.”

“Huh… you don’t say… well, if that’s how it’s going to be, that’s how it's going to be.”

Winslade spun on his heel and began to march away. His approach didn’t seem too well thought-out, but at least it was direct and immediate. I didn’t quite know what to make of it as I watched him march off down the passages. Was he really going to take a shot at assassinating the head squid? It was my impression that he was.

By mid-afternoon, I’d almost forgotten about the whole thing. But apparently, others had not missed a beat.

“McGill?” Graves spoke out of my tapper. “Word has it that you volunteered to lead our first training mission today. Report to Green Deck immediately.”

“What’s this about, Primus? You know I don’t volunteer for anything. I’m no noob.”

Graves seemed bored by my objections. “I don’t care who volunteered you. You’re filling a slot on my roster. That’s all I know. Report to Green Deck, door nine at sixteen hundred hours.”

“What gear should I bring, sir?”

“Just your standard kit. Rifle, armor, knife—no grenades. Got it?”

“Yessir, but—”

“Graves out.”

He was gone from my tapper as quickly as he’d appeared.

My face transformed into a stern scowl. Training missions on Green Deck could be brutal. I headed to my locker and threw it wide.

There she was, a lovely suit of sleek black star-stuff. I eyed the suit thoughtfully.

Sure, Graves had said I should wear my standard kit—but wasn’t this armor officially part of my load-out now? Hell, Tribune Foam himself had issued it to me.

Slowly, a grin spread over my face. I took the armor out of the locker, climbed into it, and began making some cosmetic changes. A little silver paint, a breastplate strapped over the chest—yes, it would look inconspicuous enough to a casual drone camera. After all, Graves had indicated I would be entering Green Deck alone.

There wouldn’t be any up-close witnesses as to the nature of the armor—leastwise, not until it was too late.

-22-

I arrived on Green Deck ten minutes early. After a quick check, I determined that the light over door number nine was red. That meant I was to stop and wait—but I didn’t want to wait, because the cameras would be eyeing me the whole time. Accordingly, I sauntered on down the circular passageway that ringed the exercise chamber and spied on the other doors.

This was against the rules for any kind of exercise, naturally enough. But Graves had neglected to inform me of this. He’d said it was an exercise—but not that it was competitive in nature. I took it upon myself to have a look at who else might be gathering at the neighboring doors.

The waiting zone in front of door eight was empty. It was the same at door seven—but at door six, I got a surprise.

There was a team of nerds there, opening up crates and unfolding spindly mechanical things. It took me no more than a split second to identify these: they were robots.

Combat robots, built to fight like men… I hated these things. The last time I’d participated in an exercise with these mechanical nightmares my cohort hadn’t enjoyed the experience. Today, the nerds were back at it. They were doubtlessly deploying more advanced versions of their software and hardware, and that had me a little concerned.

Walking back to door nine, I contacted Kivi. I asked her for a special piece of gear, one that we didn’t normally carry into battle. It took a bit of wheedling followed by a few shouted orders to get her to comply, but around about one minute before the door opened up, a panting figure came up to me on pounding feet.

To my surprise, it wasn’t Kivi—it was Sargon.

“Hey boss, is that the magic armor? You look good in it.”

“Shut up about that. Have you got the probe?”

“Right here. Give ‘em hell.”

I took a device from him, but I called him back when he turned to go.

“Sargon? Don’t let Kivi walk all over you. It’s not a pretty thing to see.”

“Don’t worry, sir. She just sent me because I can run faster than she can.”

“Uh-huh.”

He trotted away, and I shook my head. Kivi could weave a sinister spell over men. She could get them to do damned near anything with promises of evening festivities. Sargon had been her boyfriend off and on for years now. Carlos had been her previous fidget toy. I just didn’t want to see the boy get used.

Right then, a chime sounded, and the light over door nine turned green.

Shaking myself and doing my best to put all that nonsense aside, I stepped to the door and touched it. The titanium wall opened without effort.

Inside the chamber, I saw Green Deck in all her glory. She was configured as a jungle today, complete with peeping birds on speakers and clinging humidity. I reached up to close my visor over my face.

Before my visor was completely down, however, I heard a snap and saw a flash. An explosion of pain hit my cheek, and a matching explosion of blood splashed over the side of my helmet.

Clicking my helmet closed, I stumbled and went down to one knee. I was in shock, and it took a second to figure out what happened.

The moment I’d opened the door, someone had taken a shot at me. They’d been damned accurate, too. They’d slipped that round into the tiny crack in my armor and popped my cheek. One wouldn’t think there could be so much blood in a man's mouth—but they’d be wrong.

“Friggin’ cheaters…” I muttered. It came out kind of mushy-sounding, what with the extra hole in my mouth and all.

Grunting with effort, I stood up again.

“Looks like McGill isn’t out yet,” a voice spoke over the loudspeaker. It was Winslade’s voice, I was pretty sure of that much. “Everyone who chose either the first minute, or the first shot fired, has lost their bets.”

Bets?

Realizing I had an audience, I did my best to appear hale and healthy. I touched my tapper, activating my suit’s automatic machinery. My face was immediately sprayed with nu-skin, and my arm was given a stim shot at the same time. My breathing and heart rate accelerated.

Taking stims wasn’t the best idea, but it could keep you going for a while. Maybe an hour if I was lucky, then I’d fall on my face. At least I’d be able to get through this upcoming exercise.

Lifting my rifle, I scanned my environment. I didn’t see a damned thing.

“Notice the inferior response time,” Winslade said. “That was nearly thirty seconds of inactivity on a hostile battlefield. Utter failure in the real world.”

Mumbling curses, I walked with my gun up to my faceplate, looking this way and that. My helmet was scanning for enemy soldiers, but it wasn’t picking anything up.

Deciding this enemy probably wouldn’t register like my usual biotic opponents, I set my sensors for motion only.

That picked up a whole nest of action. Every waggling leaf under an air conditioning vent showed up as a bunch of red circles.

But some of these spots didn’t just waggle—they moved with purpose. I aimed into the nearest of these and chugged out a dozen bolts.

The targets—there were three of them—scattered under my fire. Two of them did, that is. The last flopped into the undergrowth, thrashing this way and that.

“Damn,” Winslade said. “Another mark for McGill. Anyone who bet he would be the first down has lost their money. Operators, step up the game, please.”

Even as he said this, I advanced to the spot where the three robots had been taking shelter. I found the thrashing one and I popped him, point-blank, demolishing the chassis. That robot wasn’t going to be calling tech support. He was too far gone for that—he was scrap metal.

Before I could enjoy my small victory, however, I was assaulted from my flank. I hit the deck reflexively, feeling a dozen rounds bounce off my armor from several directions at once.

“He’s down! McGill is—!” Winslade began excitedly—but then he cut off.

Rolling to a crouch, I returned fire. A group of three robots approached me with predatory speed. I put my back against a tree trunk and faced the charge. I blew one down, then two—but the third got in close, still peppering me with snap-rifle rounds.

He unloaded into my chest. It was point-blank, and I felt the sensation of the accelerated projectiles hammering on my ribs. It didn’t hurt too much. It was kind of like being under a piece of wood with your buddy beating on the far side of it.

Extending a force-blade, I gutted the last robot. He was a tangle of wire and tubing when I was done with him. I stood up again and waved at the camera-drones overhead.

“What the—?” Winslade sounded surprised and annoyed. “That’s a whole fire team lost. I don’t believe it… scorekeepers, mark the results.”

Walking again, I didn’t hear from Winslade or my stalkers for a few minutes. Deciding to use a maneuver from an old playbook, I walked toward the lagoon at the center of the chamber. That had worked well the last time I’d fought robots. Electronic gizmos tended to fail when they were dragged under water.

My action immediately garnered me some unwanted attention. A drone began following me closely, and I had half a mind to shoot it down. I was in a sour mood, what with all the skullduggery and the aching hole in my cheek.

I waded out into the lagoon, and that’s when my headset crackled.

“McGill? Centurion?”

It was Winslade. My first instinct was to ignore the contact. If I could just get a few steps farther on…

“McGill, if you don’t respond I’ll end this exercise immediately and declare you the loser.”

Any kind of a smart man would have taken that offer on the instant—but no one has ever accused me of being a deep thinker.

“Is that Tribune Winslade? Is that really you, sir?”

My knees kept sloshing forward. I never stopped moving deeper into the lagoon. A few rounds spanged off my armor. Others sent up fountains of water when they hit the surface. All the while, I didn’t pay much attention to any of it.

“McGill, damn you man! Get out of that water!”

I halted and looked around at the drone following me. I addressed it with loud but messy speech.

“Hello, audience. Centurion McGill, here. I’m experimenting with the new water-resistant nature of the robots that are hunting me. I’m very curious to see if they can stand up to such a simple test.”

“Shut up, McGill,” Winslade ordered. He was on a private channel piped directly into my helmet.

I pretty much ignored him and talked to the news drone that followed me. I pointed toward the shoreline.

“See those cowardly robots over there taking potshots at me from the shoreline? They’re chicken over a few gallons of water. What gives us life is death to them, and that’s why you should never trust a gizmo like that in combat.”

My words weren’t really meant for Winslade’s ears, of course. They were meant to reach the audience—and the clowns operating the robot troops.

“Toasters, that’s what they all are. No more useful than tits on a boar. If I had a dozen of my men, I could wipe out a legion of these jokers without breaking a sweat.”

That last insult did the trick, I think. For some reason, the term “toaster” tends to transform engineers and robots alike into a raging mob.

A whole bunch of robots—I’d say there was over a hundred of them if I had to guess—came charging out of the jungle and raced over the beach toward my position. They were converging from every direction, firing their snap-rifles as they came. A veritable hailstorm of rounds slapped into me from every angle.

They couldn’t breach my armor with snap-rifles, but the force of their countless shots had me staggering around.

“McGill? McGill!”

I ignored Winslade. It took all my concentration just to stay on my feet while I was knee-deep in a fake lagoon and being hammered by bullets from all sides.

-23-

At last, I was deep enough in the lagoon to stop wading and dive. I ducked my head and swam deep. The robots were on my tail, running down the shorelines in a circle. If I had to guess, I would say there were a hundred of them in clear sight by the time I went under.

Once under the surface, I felt a little less stressed. Sure, there were snap-rifle rounds plowing through the water and leaving streaks of bubbles every which-way as they plunged to the bottom before losing energy. Snap-rifles fired small bullets that were about the size of a BB at great velocity. They had good penetrating power in water, due to that extreme starting speed.

Even so, as they reached down to the depths of the lagoon, which was something like ten meters deep down around the pumps and drains at the bottom, the bullets lost velocity. Once spent, they fell like tiny burnt meteors to rattle on the sandy floor of the artificial lake.

Smiling to myself, I set up camp on the top of a big, orange-painted pump. Sure, I knew I wasn’t going to win this fight. Not in any fair sort of way, at least. But I was more than capable of dragging it out and pissing off everyone involved with this bogus exercise.

As a bonus, Winslade wasn’t audible anymore. I was too deep in water and there were all these robots and pumps and bullets flying around creating interference. Accordingly, I had to imagine the conniption he was displaying right now concerning this unexpected state of affairs.

Some might say that I was the devil in this mix, but I will now and forevermore dispute that claim. Winslade was the tribune of Varus’ companion zoo legion, after all. He wasn’t in my direct chain of command. Any pants-crapping fitful displays of rage he might be exhibiting right now didn’t concern me. I was only interested in what Tribune Foam had to say about the matter.

It was, therefore, a great shock to me when a very large figure cast a shadow over me and my perch on that orange-painted pump. The shadow wasn’t human at all—it was the unmistakably multi-limbed shape of a squid.

“Uh…” I said, peering up at the silvery surface above.

The shower of pellets from up there had long since ceased to fall. To my disappointment, none of the robots had dared enter the water—at least they hadn’t ventured any deeper than the tops of their artificial, ball-jointed kneecaps.

But this shadow—that was something different. Peering upward with my hand shielding my vision, I began to doubt the humor of my little joke I’d been enjoying at Winslade’s expense.

“Centurion McGill,” said a deep, alien voice. I knew right off it was none other than my commanding officer, Tribune Foam.

“Is that Foam? McGill reporting, sir!”

The figure glided closer. We were communicating with radio, using a frequency which worked okay in water as long as you were fairly close to one another.

“McGill, why do you shame our legion?”

“Uh… shame, sir? I’m not shaming anyone. I’m winning!”

The squid settled on the bottom. He wasn’t wearing a suit. In fact, he wasn’t wearing anything. Some would call him buck-naked, but to a squid that was normal enough in water. His only adornment was a harness of sorts that held basic equipment like his translator.

“You shame us by hiding in this false lake. No warrior of Varus would admit defeat in front of these machines.”

“Ah-ha! I understand the trouble now, sir. It’s one of misunderestimation. You see, sir, I’m doing this on purpose.”

The squid rustled his elephant-trunk-like tentacles restlessly. “Explain yourself, human. No more riddles.”

“This is all a matter of status, sir, of one-upmanship between humans. That sneaky bastard Winslade doesn’t like me because I declared my loyalty to you, my rightful commander. Because of that, he set up this nonsensical exercise to humiliate me—and you as well.”

“How is it that your abject cowardice isn’t an even greater source of shame?”

“Because I’m not quitting—I’m stalling. I’m not down here to save my skin—no sir! I’m down here to defend your honor.”

The squid was on the move now. Foam glided all the way around me in a circle. His behavior was kind of—predatory. Like a shark swimming around a diver, looking for the best place to sink in his teeth.

“Your words are suspect, but they are also intriguing. When did you make this public announcement concerning your loyalty to me?”

“It wasn’t public, Tribune, because I wasn’t asked about it publicly. I was approached in private, and I rebuffed every suggestion of mutiny, assassination and subterfuge.”

The squid stopped circling. He loomed over me, and he was kind of big. I have to say, I’ve fought with a dozen squids in my time, and it was always the worst to do so in water. There, they were like ballerinas while we were floundering fools.

“Assassination… so soon? I’ve only just taken my post. It is customary for a new commander to be allowed to rule until he makes at least a single mistake of significance.”

“That’s just it, sir. You’re talking about squid rulers. I’m talking about humans. We primates… well… it gives me no pride to say it, but we never stop scheming to take out our betters.”

“Is your loyalty, then, an elaborate plot to take command for yourself? Do you perhaps plot against Winslade not out of loyalty to me, but out of a burning desire of your own to lead?”

I laughed long and loud. “No way, Tribune! I was offered your cohort back on Edge World, remember? Fike wanted me to be your primus, but I turned him down flat.”

Foam began swimming and circling again. “Interesting… your facts are bizarre, but they are essentially accurate. You did turn down the opportunity to command my cohort, even after having done so in battle with poise and grace. I’m still at a loss to explain that…”

“Well… here’s the way I look at it: Every man—or squid—has to know his limitations. Your existence lasts longer that way.”

Foam thought about that for a second or two. He didn’t move much, nor did he gesture or ink himself—he just hung there in the water. It was kind of weird.

“You’ve presented me with an array of conflicting concepts, human. For now, I will accept your loyalty. I will accept that you have been slinking down here like an egg-thief for my benefit.”

“That’s great, Tribune!”

“Yes… and I now have a new order for you, loyal McGill.”

“Really? What’s that?”

“You will rise up out of this pool, and you will do battle with the robots on the shore. You will either slay them all, or they will slay you. In either case, I shall be pleased.”

“Uh…”

“One final suggestion: protect your helm. It is your weak point in that armor.”

With that, the squid heaved his mighty limbs. After two or three big sweeps of those tentacles, he was up to the surface and heading for shore. Soon, he was gone from sight entirely.

Left sitting alone on an orange-painted pump, I heaved a big sigh.

“Well… shit.”

-24-

There was nothing for it. All my bullshit and bluster had gotten me exactly nowhere. I’d been given a legit order to do or die, and I couldn’t think of an easy way to get out of it.

Sure, I could squat down here at the bottom until the cows came home. Maybe my oxygen would run out, or maybe they’d pull the plug on the lagoon and drain it—but none of that would help much.

Without Foam’s support to call Winslade out on this bullshit exercise, I didn’t have a leg to stand on. The best I could hope for was yet another court-martial, with all the associated boredom and floggings and such-like.

Heaving another big sigh, I began trudging up the slope toward the surface. The least I could do was have a little fun, I figured. So I walked with my rifle held at an angle in front of my faceplate.

The robots fired a barrage at me, but my rifle deflected most of the rounds aimed at my face. They did seem to be firing at my helmet. It was the weakest point, just as Foam had said. They seemed to know this.

“Ceasefire!” Winslade ordered.

The shower of bullets slowed and stopped.

“McGill?” Winslade boomed over the PA system. “Are you surrendering? Is that what this is?”

“No sir. I’m demanding a fair fight.”

“What? What’s this nonsense? You’re not demanding—”

“Hear me out, sir. I want to fight these robots one at a time. Line them up, give them numbers or something—it doesn’t matter. I’ll fight all of them to the finish.”

“That’s not going to happen, Centurion. Robots—”

While we’d been talking, I’d been marching steadily up out of the water. If I’d started this brawl while my feet were in water, I’d have been at a distinct disadvantage. Always use your time wisely in battle, that’s what Graves had taught me for decades.

Once Winslade had pretty much announced his intent to start the fight, I charged the nearest robot. I dropped my rifle and picked him up. I used his skinny body as a shield—which again protected my faceplate.

Those skinny metal arms and steel fingers were strong—but not that strong. They were about like a normal man’s fingers. Strong enough to squeeze a trigger and carry a rifle—that was about it. The robot I’d lifted in the air was scratching at me, but I ignored all that and rushed the next one.

Naturally, streams of bullets were coming at me now. They burned the air and sang in my ears despite all the layers of armor. I ignored it all.

My armor was pretty much impenetrable and heavily padded inside, but the protection wasn’t total. My ribs took a terrible pounding, and I staggered from the impacts alone. It was like being hit by several fire hoses at once.

Fortunately, I’m a large and ornery man. I reached the second robot and crashed the first guy into him. They both went down in a tumble of wires and sparking joints. The incoming bullets had shredded the one I was carrying, and I extended a half-meter force blade to gut the second.

Then I was on to the third machine in line. The robots had encircled me now, firing away. By virtue of some error in their programming, however, I noticed they weren’t paying attention to what was on the far side of their target.

A grim smile played on my lips. These guys weren’t concerned with blue-on-blue situations. Possibly, that was because a normal man in normal armor would have been dead by now. They were just computers, after all, and when I didn’t die right away, their programming said to keep firing.

Thinking I might be able to use this to my advantage, I picked up another robot to use as a shield. My helmet was starting to star-up something awful. The faceplate couldn’t last forever, and I needed cover.

The robots shot up the one I’d picked up, so I threw it at them and grabbed another. This worked for something like five robots before they changed tactics.

“McGill, I’ve now confirmed that you are to be disqualified,” Winslade said. “No matter how many robots you maliciously destroy, you will be declared the loser.”

“How’s that, sir?” I managed to shout over the din of fire and ricochets.

“Because you’re obviously wearing an illegal suit of armor. I don’t know where you stole it, or how you got it onto Green Deck—”

“I did no such thing, sir. I was issued this armor officially, by order of Tribune Foam himself.”

Winslade paused. I could only imagine the terrible cursing that was going on up in the control booth. My ears were burning, I can tell you that much.

“Very well, you vicious Judas. Have it your way, McGill. Robot operators, go to full-function! Tear that man apart!”

For about a second, all the firing and shuffling around in the sand stopped. The robots had frozen in place. It was like a switch had been thrown.

I didn’t know if they were loading a new program or confused, or writing emails to their iron mommies, and I didn’t much care. I wasted no time taking advantage of this pause in the action.

Seeing as I was still outnumbered about eighty to one, I gutted the three closest machines in rapid succession. I was only sorry I hadn’t brought a grenade with me. Truly, that was my sole regret at this point. My blood was up, and I was liable to do damned near anything.

All of a sudden, the robots started moving again. The switch was flipped back on, and this time they all dropped their rifles and rushed me.

I wasn’t happy to see this change of heart and tactics. After all, impenetrable armor works best when someone is wasting their time trying to penetrate it. Apparently, the robo-operators had finally figured that out.

Dozens of artificial steel hands reached for me. They grabbed every limb, every joint and every crevice.

Struggling to break one hand free, I reached for my final weapon—the EMP device I’d gotten from Kivi.

Sargon had delivered this tiny bomb, and I’d carried it since the start of the fight. Now was the time, if there was ever going to be one, to deploy it.

Setting the thing off was weird. There was only a pop and a flash—and not much of a flash. The point of this weapon was to release an electromagnetic pulse. The pulse was designed to disable computers and the like.

The robot brains were shielded, of course, but that only did so much. A powerful pulse, fired off in close proximity, was still able to scramble their electronic minds something awful.

Unfortunately, it also wrecked my helmet displays, my weapons, and even my tapper.

I didn’t care. The robots had all been zapped. Some squirmed and clawed at the sandy beach. Some released me, but most held on. It took me a few minutes to break free of all those steely webworks that served them for hands.

Standing tall, I walked out of the mass of dead robots with only a minor limp. I kicked them aside when they got in my way, and I threw a couple into the lagoon for good measure.

“McGill has ended the battle with an incredible act of vandalism,” Winslade said over the loudspeaker. “He is officially disqualified and declared the loser of this contest!”

I paid no heed. I was shaking both fists over my head, hooting and hollering. Marching off Green Deck, I waved to the snarling techs who swarmed their busted robots and gave them plenty of grins and thank-yous. Demonstrating their lack of good sportsmanship, they universally cursed, spat, and waved their middle fingers at me in return.

Happy and even elated, I reached the exit. A bio team was there, waiting. A grim-faced adjunct-level bio led the team.

“Any injuries?” she asked me.

Her tone was no-nonsense, and her attitude wasn’t the best, but she was easy on the eyes, so I gave her a friendly smile.

“Nah, nothing much. Just this hole in my cheek, see? Nothing a little nu-skin can’t fix up in a jiffy.”

“Let me see that please, Centurion.”

Shrugging, I pulled off my helmet and let her poke around a bit. That’s when I felt a sting in my neck.

Quick as a cat, I grabbed her wrist.

“You’re hurting me, Centurion!”

“You just killed me… why?”

Her hard eyes softened. She looked down at the deck for a moment, and my vision faded to all shades of gray.

“I…uh, orders, sir. I’m sorry.”

I nodded, feeling my body going numb. I still had a hold on her wrists, and I could have killed her if I moved quick enough—but I wasn’t in the mood.

“All right. I accept your apology—but you owe me one, Adjunct.”

She gave me a puzzled look, and I slid to the deck. She locked eyes with me, and we stared at each other. I died there at her feet.

 -25-

When I came back to life, I wasn’t overly angry. Sure, I’d been murdered and denounced and called a loser in a game I’d actually won—but then again, I’d trashed a whole bunch of shitty robots, too. That should put a smile on anyone’s face.

“What’s his score?”

“Nine-point-two. Not bad.”

“Good enough for me.”

That voice… it was her voice—the girl who’d killed me.

Over the years, I’d developed relationships with a number of bio women. For some reason, since time immemorial, wounded soldiers had tended to fall for nurses, and vice versa. Perhaps today would help prove that rule once again.

“Adjunct?” I said when I was able to speak clearly. “Who told you to kill me?”

She didn’t answer right away, but I knew she was looking at me and thinking. “I… I can’t say, Centurion.”

“It was Winslade, wasn’t it?”

“No. I can assure you of that much. It wasn’t Winslade.”

That intrigued me. I’d been pretty frigging sure Winslade was the guilty party. But if this girl said it wasn’t him, I believed her. Everyone hated Winslade. No one would lie to protect that guy.

“Huh… well then, who?”

“I can’t say.”

I got off the recovery table after I got tired of being prodded and poked at. I threw my arms wide to stretch, and the bio people flinched and stepped back. That was a kind of test of mine. Someone must’ve told them I could be dangerous after an undeserved death.

“Can I have some clothes?”

“The locker is right over there.”

I shambled in the direction indicated, and I was soon dragging clothes over my new body. The truth was it was kind of nice to be free of pain. A gunshot wound in the face can linger for weeks, causing all sorts of discomfort, especially when eating. After my revival, I was fresh as a daisy—and I even had an angle to play with this pretty adjunct girl.

She was blonde, but only in the front because she’d dyed two long tresses. Her eyes were big and her mouth was small. I liked her.

“Hey,” I said when I was dressed and wearing boots again. “How about that date?”

“What?”

I eyeballed her name tag. It was really helpful that we all wore them in the military. It removed one early step when you were getting to know someone.

Her name was Adjunct Wendy Stinson. I committed that to memory as best I was able. “You heard me, Wendy. When are we going out?”

“Never, Centurion. This is a professional relationship—besides, I’ve got a boyfriend.”

Her cool demeanor didn’t put me off any. “Of course you do,” I said without missing a beat. “I’ve never met a girl as pretty as you are who didn’t have a boyfriend—or six of them. But I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m just saying you owe me a dinner. Maybe a few beers, too.”

“Why do I owe you anything?” she asked in an amused voice.

“Because you outright murdered me down on Green Deck. You did it in an underhanded, tricky way too. What’s more, I suspect you did it for profit.”

Wendy’s big eyes widened a fraction. I knew then that I’d struck a nerve.

Winslade had set up some kind of pool. Some kind of betting system concerning when I was going to die at the evil metal hands of his nasty robots. That meant a lot of people might be very interested in just how and when I’d died on Green Deck.

Eyeing Wendy and her guilty expression, I got the feeling I’d figured it out. Winslade hadn’t ordered me dead—but someone else had. Someone who stood to profit.

I grinned down at her. “Now, when are we going to dinner? Tonight?”

She shook her head and studied the deck. “I can’t tonight. I’ve got a thing.”

“Well call him up and cancel. Otherwise, I’m liable to contact some people who bet on me. An awful lot of people bet stacks of money, you know. They were all cheated when you intervened today.”

Wendy gave me a quick worried glance, then she looked away again. “You can’t say anything. I just got my officer rank. I don’t need a mark like that on my record.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear that sort of thing all the time from perpetrators. No one ever thinks of the consequences of their underhanded actions when they’re receiving a load of credits on their tappers, no sir. They only get worried about that kind of thing when their dirty deeds catch up with them.”

She looked up at me angrily. “I didn’t do anything dirty. I… I just followed orders.”

“Good job. I almost believe you. That pout you’ve got going there might just keep all the losers happy. No one is going to accuse you of cheating, I’m sure of it.”

She looked worried all over again.

“Look,” I said, stepping a half pace closer to her and lowering my voice. “Let’s just talk about it tonight at dinner, okay?”

“All right...”

“Six o’clock. Lavender Deck.”

Wendy frowned at me. “Lavender Deck? That’s for passengers and crew. Legionnaires aren’t allowed down there.”

I gave her a smile that was as big as her frown. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.”

Whistling, I left Blue Deck with my head held high. Today was turning out pretty well according to my way of thinking. I’d trashed a stack of robots, pissed off Winslade something awful, and wangled myself a date—and it was only four o’clock in the afternoon.

My immediate plan was to head to my quarters and clean up a little. The freebie uniform Blue Deck had issued was one of the papery kind, and it barely fit my frame. Worse, I hadn’t taken any kind of shower and my hair was all drippy. This wasn’t how successful first dates started.

Just as I reached my unit’s module, my luck took a turn. As I put my hand onto the doorway and pushed it open, hearing a chorus of cheers from my troops, I was accosted by an unpleasant person.

It was Winslade, and he was waiting inside my troop quarters with a detail of three heavy troopers behind him.

“There you are,” he said. “So good of you to wander by, Centurion.”

“I live to please, sir.”

“Far from it. Come this way, McGill. We need to have a few choice words.”

As I was in my own module, and we were on the human side of the ship, I didn’t budge.

“Sorry sir. I don’t mean any disrespect, but I’m under the orders of one Tribune Foam. He’s told me to do something else right now, so I’ll have to politely decline your invitation.”

Winslade showed me a line of his small white teeth. “We need to talk,” he said.

“All right. Come on in here to my officer’s conference area. I’ll hear you out.”

He and his oversized goons followed me. I wasn’t worried. If he and his three gorillas tried anything, well, I might call on Harris and his platoon of heavies to back me up.

Adjunct Harris was thinking the same way, I could tell. He and five of his heavy legionnaires were polishing their kits no more than ten steps away. None of them were laughing or screwing around with each other. They were listening and watching.

“I see you have your thugs, even as I have mine,” Winslade said, gesturing toward Harris.

“Huh? Oh, that’s just Harris. He’s wearing that expression because he can’t abide the stink of your Blood Worlders—no offense, boys.”

The Blood Worlders stared back without much expression and no words at all. It was hard to tell if they were following the conversation. They were kind of like guard dogs that way—they responded more to their leaders’ mood and actions than they did words.

“McGill,” Winslade said, “there are certain realities of which you seem to be actively ignorant.”

“Huh? Like what?”

“I’m talking about that fiasco today on Green Deck.”

“Oh, that. Don’t tell me you’re going to file charges and bring in some nerds from Hog Central to complain about me frying robots. That’s not going to fly on this ship. Everyone aboard hates those things.”

“Yes, I daresay you’re right. Even I find them distasteful.”

I blinked at him. I’d kind of expected him to go off about budgets and regulations—but he didn’t.

“So that’s not it? You’re not upset about the robots?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well then… Oh, I’ve got it. You had some money riding on that outcome, didn’t you? You bet hard and lost it all. Let me give you a word of advice, Leo—you don’t mind if I call you that, do you?”

He gave me a sour look. “I’d rather you didn’t. I’m a full-fledged tribune now, and I’d prefer you to be more respectful.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll call you Leonard then, whatever. But when it comes to my glorious performance on Green Deck—I get it. Someone important must have lost his shirt betting on the game, right?”

Winslade’s eyes were furtive. “That’s closer to the mark—but it also doesn’t matter to me right now.”

“Really? Wow… in that case, I’m flat out of ideas, sir. Give me a hint or something.”

He sighed. “Very well. Let’s attempt to do some reasoning together, shall we? I know it will be difficult for you, but try to think like a full-fledged human being.”

“Uh… okay.”

“Recently, a shocking promotion was made inside your legion. Am I right?”

My face was blank, and my jaw hung low for a few seconds. Then I suddenly snapped out of it. “You’re talking about Foam, right? Our new squid CO?”

“You said that hateful word, not me. In any case… yes. Next point: did we, or did we not discuss resolving that problem very recently?”

“Uh… we’re still talking about Foam, right?”

Winslade put his hand to his face. “Dear God…”

“Hold on. You must be talking about all that nonsense about removing the new Tribune. What? Was I supposed to kill Foam right off, or something?”

He showed his teeth again, with his lower ones poking out farther than his uppers. “Yes... I sent him down to the bottom of the lagoon to meet you in person—but you failed to do your part.”

“Oh…”

“Now listen McGill, I know he gave you a fine gift. That armor you covet so much. But you can’t—”

“Oh! Hold on! That reminds me, where’s my frigging armor?”

He threw a bony hand in the air. “Stop worrying about the damned armor, will you? You took a gift from a squid. That’s like swearing loyalty to him.”

“Well now, I wouldn’t go that far. All he did was give me the armor I was issued years back. It was hardly even a gift, if you think about it. He was just returning lost property.”

“Don’t be a naive halfwit. That’s how Cephalopods keep their close subordinates happy, Centurion—with gifts. I’m shocked such a base technique worked on you at all. I’m telling you that Foam is manipulating you, McGill. Don’t you see that?”

“Huh… well… maybe.”

The truth was beginning to dawn. Foam was buying my loyalty. He was having private conversations, siding with me on command disagreements, and he’d even given me one of the few material objects on Heaven or Earth that I cared about.

“Huh…” I said again, thinking it over.

“That’s right. Foam pulled a fast one on you—on both of us. All I’m asking is that if you’re given another golden opportunity like that one—don’t pass it up.”

“But sir, if I had killed Foam, he’d just catch a revive and be back at his desk in an hour—wouldn’t he?”

Winslade gave me a dirty look. His lips pulled into a tight, grim smile. “You leave that part up to me.”

Winslade left then, and I went into my private quarters to clean up. While I did so, I thought about his words.

As far as I knew, there was only one revival machine on Dominus that could revive someone as big as Foam. Did Winslade plan to sabotage it?

The thought was kind of disturbing.

-26-

Still thinking hard, I left my module for my date. I found Wendy at the entrance to Lavender Deck. She was dolled-up, with her blonde-streaked braids hanging down and non-reg sexy shoes on her feet.

Two ornery-looking navy pukes stood in front of us, however, playing the cock-block card. They were marines—or what passed for marines on a transport ship. I met up with Wendy and gave her a raft of compliments.

She smiled briefly, then nodded toward the two wannabe-hogs at the entrance. “Thanks, McGill, but—”

“Call me James.”

“Okay, James. But these guys aren’t letting us onto Lavender Deck. I already asked them.”

“Don’t fret. You just have to know how to talk to these fellows.”

Turning to the two guards, I saw the lead noncom was already shaking his head at me. He did this slowly, with a slant to his head and a flat smile on his lips. He looked like he had me all figured out. He thought he was onto my game and well-prepared to stop me.

But he didn’t know me very well yet.

“I’m sorry, sirs,” the marine sergeant said. “Lavender Deck is for crew and guests only. No legionnaires allowed.”

Throwing my shoulders back and squaring them, I approached the two. “You’d be exactly right—most of the time. But I happen to know that if said legionnaires are performing an arrest, those rules are out the window.”

The marines blinked. “Uh… who are you arresting, Centurion?”

While we talked, I’d been flicking through names on my tapper. One nice thing about modern technology is it let everyone pretty much spy on everyone else in a given environment. With very little effort, I was able to see which navy losers were currently off-duty and roaming Lavender Deck seeking entertainment.

The seventh name on my tapper caught my attention. It said he was an arms-dealer. Those guys sometimes came along on missions, doing negotiations with the brass until we reached the combat zone we were targeting. This was one of the wonders of modern technology. By using gateway posts, merchants, politicians and VIPs in general could come and go while we were flying the big ship out to the destination we had in mind.

“This is him. Miles Stannish. He’s a fiend—a double-dealer who’s selling his wares to Earth and Rigel alike.”

The noncom eyed my tapper dubiously. “I don’t even recognize that civilian. Are you sure he’s—oh. He is on Lavender Deck. Well… I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait until he leaves this zone.”

I took a sudden step forward. “Hey, hog—yeah, I’m talking to you. Are you on the take? Is that the deal, here? This worm Stannish, he’s known to pass out bribes like candy.”

“Uh…”

The two guards were in confusion now, but they soon found their way out of it. They let us walk onto Lavender Deck.

“James!” Wendy hissed from my side. “That was insane! Why would you tell all those sick lies just to get some better food?”

“Food is a passion of mine, just ask anyone. But anyways, I’m not just down here for the cooking. Come on.”

We walked around Lavender Deck like we owned the place. Wendy was nervous, and I soon found she was kind of hanging around at my elbow when we barged into various restaurants and bars. She wasn’t very tall, so she looked like she was hiding behind me or something. I didn’t mind, and I pretended not to notice.

After a fine meal and several house-specialty drinks, we were both feeling pretty good. Wendy was even starting to come around and enjoy herself.

All too soon, however, she pulled the whole ‘I’ve got to get up early tomorrow’ routine, and we left the deck. At the elevators, we saw those same two hog-boys, and they seemed riled-up.

“There you are, McGill! Stannish is about to take lift three—see him?”

Craning my neck, I did see the pudgy fellow I’d fingered over two hours ago.

“Right!” I said. “We’ve been tailing him, waiting for him to make his move. Thanks, guys.”

“We would have cuffed him ourselves, but we don’t have the warrant or the authority.”

“You did right. I’m on it.”

I strode with purpose, and Wendy trailed in my wake. “Don’t hurt him, James!” she whispered to me.

I caught up with Stannish at the very door of lift number three, ramming a hand between the closing doors. They bounced open, and I strode aboard.

“There you are! You’re under arrest, Stannish!”

The civvie looked like he was going to wet himself. He stammered and denied things and held a piece of computer paper up to his chest like it was a shield or something.

I waited until Wendy stepped aboard, and the elevator doors shut behind us. Then I smiled at Stannish and offered him my big hand to shake.

“Hey Miles, I’ve read all about you.”

“You have?”

“Yessir. I admire your work thoroughly.”

“But… I’m a sensor calibrator. All I do is contract work for Central. This ship had to leave port in a hurry, see, and—”

I waved for quiet, as I was already bored with his explanations. “I know all about that, Stannish. I just wanted to shake your hand for a job well done.”

I offered him my hand again, and he shook it at last. He looked very confused. “You said something about an arrest…?”

“What? No, no, no. I said you probably needed a rest. You deserve one too, what with all the fine work you’ve been doing.”

We rode up a dozen floors, talking like old friends. He was so relieved I wasn’t going to rob him or murder him or something that he became animated. At last, he got off and escaped us.

Wendy eyed me thoughtfully throughout this process. She was thinking about me—thinking hard.

“You’re a bully, aren’t you?” she asked at last.

“Uh…” I said, taken by surprise. “Not always.”

“Well then, you’re a bullshitter.”

“I can’t deny that one.”

Wendy heaved a sigh. She seemed kind of deflated. We’d had a nice date, and she’d enjoyed herself. Now, however, she’d gotten a good look under the hood at old McGill. She was beginning to understand how I ticked, and she wasn’t entirely happy.

“Hey,” I said. “You want to visit Green Deck? Or the observatory up top?”

These were both well-known make-out spots aboard any legion ship. Wendy didn’t answer right away, but then she opened her mouth.

I knew before she spoke what she was going to say, so I beat her to the punch.

“By the way, why’d you kill me today?”

That made her blink a few times. “I told you. I had orders.”

“Yeah, right… but what’s the real reason?”

Wendy looked down. She studied her pretty shoes, my over-sized clown boots, and the deck between them.

“I… I placed a bet… and I lost. You weren’t supposed to wreck all those robots, James. That was insane.”

Throwing back my head, I laughed long and loud. I reached out and slipped a hand over her shoulders. She flinched, but then she relaxed when she realized that I wasn’t going to strangle her or anything.

“That makes perfect sense,” I told her. “I can see why your psych profile landed you in Legion Varus, girl. Don’t you see? I’m a scoundrel, and you’re a murdering witch. A murderess for profit, no less. We’re a match made in heaven.”

Her eyes were furtive, but she managed a slight smile. I had her number, and I wasn’t angry. She melted then, and we kissed.

I felt relieved, as I finally understood why she’d been a little hesitant and cold all night. She’d been interested in me, but she naturally wasn’t sure how I was going to react to this tidbit of news when I eventually found out the truth.

Grinning, I led her to my favorite spot on Green Deck. We had quite an evening, and the fake stars overhead looked lovelier than ever by the time we eventually called it a night.

-27-

The next day I expected there to be a court of inquisition over the broken robots—but there wasn’t. Instead, I was invited to Gold Deck for a top-level meeting.

Now, anyone in my shoes might expect a dressing-down at such a meeting, but I was specifically told to wear my dress uniform and there was no mention of an arrest, or any nonsense about surrendering my weapons.

I thought about wearing my combat armor just in case, but I left it in the locker with an extra alarm or two on the latch. There was no way I could dress that bulky black suit up and call it formal.

Arriving at Gold Deck, I still was kind of concerned. I was still wondering if the baby-hog guards would arrest me or something—they didn’t.

“Take a right at the end of the main passage, Centurion. It’s the first door on the left after that.”

“That door goes to the officer’s lounge,” I said. “Are you sure that’s where I’m headed?”

“All of the brass are headed that way,” the guard answered. “There are some big heavyweight civvies coming in through the gateway from Earth, too.”

“Really? That always means good food. Okay, thanks.”

I followed the instructions and barged in. It was just like the guards had said, there were all kinds of important people in the room. On the left side sat a bunch of techs. I recognized them as the same gang who’d built and serviced the robots. On the right side were military officers. Captain Merton was there, plus Tribunes Winslade and Foam.

Seeing Foam up there made me do a double-take. It was downright weird seeing a squid in the officer’s lounge due to our not-so-distant state of war. The navy boys had taken out three seats for him, and even with that he was kind of squatting with his limbs splayed out under the table. He looked like an adult shoved into a kindergarten lunchroom—an adult with tentacles.

“Ah, there’s McGill,” Winslade said sarcastically. “He’s on time for once. I’m amazed.”

Foam eyed him then me. It was hard to read squid expressions, but I didn’t think old Foam looked happy. “If I understand your meaning,” he said, “then I can only surmise that you are easily amazed.”

“That’s right,” I said, coming near and pulling up a chair. “Tribune Winslade is baffled, bewildered and-or mystified by me on a regular basis. Isn’t that right, sir?”

Winslade gave me a sour glance. He leaned forward and spoke to me in a mean-sounding tone. “Keep up the disrespect, McGill. Laugh while you can. We’ll see who gets the final kick in the pants from your actions this morning.”

I laughed him off, but the truth was I was a little worried. It had been my experience that the brass hated losing a lot of expensive gear. In fact, there was probably almost nothing they hated more. Even outright failure to achieve mission objectives was a lesser sin to the bean-counter types who ran Earth’s military.

After I found my place—which was way back in the cheap-seats—I got myself two bulging plates of chow and went to town on them. The dinner was Hawaiian themed, and my twin plates were overflowing with roasted pig, pasty stuff rammed into leaves, pasty stuff shoved into pineapple rinds, and a big salad full of exotic fruits. I dug in immediately and kept eating until my first plate was empty. My second plate went down soon after. I had to give the food a thumbs-up. Overall, it was pretty damned good grub.

Rising to go for my third plate, I was halted by a rush of attention directed toward the entrance. Someone important had arrived.

My neck craned as I raided the buffet again. First came Drusus and Wurtenburger. Two praetors at one meeting? Wow, that was some big brass!

Behind them walked another man whom I’d only met recently. It was Alexander Turov, a Public Servant of the highest order. Galina trailed behind him next. It was pretty clear to me now how she’d weaseled back her rank and gotten herself invited to this high-level meeting. After all, her dad was in charge of budgets.

Grabbing no more than a handful of food, I high-tailed it back to my seat. I didn’t want anyone in this group of late arrivals to spot me.

I needn’t have worried because they were guided right past me to the head table. There, they were seated by Captain Merton himself. Drusus and the Turovs were being treated like royalty.

The banquet went into full swing as everyone ate and drank. All too soon, however, the fun part stopped and the speeching began. At least they’d let us eat first.

Wurtenburger took the first crack at the microphone. He was a fat guy with a powerful euro accent and a flowery way with words. “Ladies and gentlemen, it isn’t often that a political dignitary as illustrious as Public Servant Alexander Turov visits a legion transport. This is a great honor, and I must insist that we all welcome the Servant aboard with enthusiasm.”

The crowd obliged by tapping their hands together. Finding the response tepid at best, I slammed my big palms against one another and hooted. A few people glanced my way with irritable expressions, but I ignored all that. To my mind, I was just following orders.

“Thank you, thank you,” Servant Turov said, standing and nodding to us. “Today I’m pleased to meet those who are on the front lines of Earth’s defense.”

He went on for a time, praising our legion and our accomplishments. But then… he got down to business.

“Officers and officials, I’m here to tell you of a budget change. A critical change that must be dealt with here at the legion level.”

All the talk died, and everyone stopped chewing. You could have heard a pin drop. The old buzzard had everyone’s attention now.

I swear, you could take a boatload of brass into a hot combat zone, and they’d just keep on yapping—but if you mentioned budgets, well sir, that’s what really made them stand up and salute.

Hands rose up all over the room. For once, none of those hands belonged to me.

Servant Turov pointed to Drusus first.

“Servant, I think everyone here wants to know which direction this budget change will take. Are we talking about an expansion, or…?”

Turov ran his eyes over the crowd, then he shook his head. “No. Sadly, I can’t report any good news today. The Geneva Council has decided to change our strategic direction. As part of this new direction, cuts will have to be made in the military sector.”

“I see… Thank you, sir,” Drusus sat down, and Captain Merton was called next.

Merton stood up and bowed. He outright frigging bowed. “Great Servant, you are doubtlessly a luminary,” Merton began, and I realized he’d decided to kiss ass and to go hard with it right from the start. “We’re very pleased to have someone come and talk to us about this matter directly. Can I assume this means final decisions have not yet been made?”

Turov inclined his head, nodding gently in the affirmative. In response, everyone’s gut tightened a notch. The brass all seemed to find it hard to breathe. This wasn’t just an informative meet-and-greet. Turov was signaling that decisions were being made—maybe on the basis of this meeting.

That put pressure on everyone present—with the possible exception of me. I didn’t much care if they short-changed me a few thousand credits a month, or if they didn’t replace my gear for an extra year or two. When you were on the front lines taking fire, all of that stuff didn’t mean squat to a real grunt.

Still, it was kind of interesting, and I was happy to know that at least this meeting wasn’t going to be a total waste of time.

“A follow-up, if I may?” Captain Merton asked.

Servant Turov nodded to him again.

“Will this possibly affect the navy, or are we talking only about the budget of ground forces?”

“Every military expenditure is under scrutiny.”

The room erupted into muttering. Apparently, this was news that no one wanted to hear.

Servant Turov lifted a withered hand and they all shut up instantly. “Let me say that we’re not cutting pay. Not directly. We’re freezing it, and we’re freezing all new recruitments and promotions—but there will be no reduction in remuneration.”

The muttering got louder. Winslade raised his hand, and Turov pointed to him.

“Glorious Servant of the People,” Winslade began, establishing a new standard in bootlicking right off the bat. “I’m a tribune of a support legion. I must point out that our forces are the most cost effective of any represented here—because most of our troops do not require pay, or revivals.”

There were a few angry scowls at that. Winslade was always looking out for number one.

“Yes, yes,” Turov said. “That has been taken into consideration.”

Foam threw a tentacle so high that it folded up against the ceiling. Turov pointed to him next.

“Government official of Earth,” he said, “I am the only non-human leader of an independent legion. Is my position in danger?”

“No, as I said, we’re not cutting line officers or salaries. We’re freezing them at current levels.”

“Where, then, will these cuts fall?”

Servant Turov looked around at all of us. His eyes landed on the nerd robot-operators. “Gentlemen. I’ve been told you recently exhibited the quality of your new military hardware with a public demonstration.”

A scaredy-looking nerd stood up. “My name is Director Cunningham. I’m a lab leader from Central.”

Servant Turov gestured impatiently for him to continue.

Cunningham looked flustered, but determined. “Um… well sirs, we did perform an exercise today, but it was only for the purpose of training troops. It wasn’t any kind of field test.”

“I see. How many humans participated in this training?”

“Well…” Director Cunningham glanced across the room at me. It seemed like there was some anger in his eyes, but I could have been wrong. “Only one man participated.”

“One man? One man was trained?”

“Not exactly… many people observed the whole thing. It was instructive for them too, I’m sure. We as the robo-operators learned significantly.”

Servant Turov nodded. “Excellent. Let’s see the video—in its entirety.”

By this time, I was getting a nasty feeling from old Alexander and his tricky daughter, who was sitting there right next to him. This was a setup. It had been right from the start. At least this time out I wasn’t the target of underhanded skullduggery—Cunningham was definitely in the crosshairs.

I could tell the nerd didn’t want to play the files, but he had no choice. A Public Servant was akin to a deity for any government type. Alexander Turov was like a minor god that sometimes deigned to walk among the filthy citizens he presided over. You didn’t just say no to a Servant.

Finally, after seeing no way out, Cunningham played the video.

It was awful. As a Legion Varus man, I’ve experienced a lot of public humiliation and scorn. I’ve deflected the disgust of my fellow man on many occasions. But today, after watching the piss-poor performance of his robots, I could feel Cunningham’s pain. It almost made me sorry I’d trashed all his gizmos and made him and his crew look like total losers… almost.

By the end of the vid, the room drew quiet. They’d just watched me bashing robots, smashing one into another, for fifteen solid minutes. They’d skipped the part where I’d hid on the bottom of the lagoon, fast-forwarding out of boredom.

That’s when Servant Turov turned toward me. “Centurion McGill. That was you playing the part of a one-man wrecking ball on Green Deck?”

“Uh… yessir.”

“Did you learn anything from this exercise?”

My eyes ran over the crowd. Some of them looked amused. Others looked worried.

The last officer I looked at was Foam. He was eyeing me steadily. Under the table, I saw one of his tentacles lift up—then he made a single downward slashing motion with the limb. He did that twice, quite deliberately, and then he dropped his nasty appendage to the floor again.

I thought about that for half a second. Was Foam signaling me to stop talking? Or to burn Cunningham? Or what? I really wasn’t sure.

I quickly decided it didn’t matter. I didn’t care what Foam wanted. What I wanted was for these wicked robots to be gone from my ship and from my legion. I hated them all, and I wanted them tossed onto the ash heap of legion history.

Accordingly, I stood tall and looked around the room. Only Foam was taller, and everyone looked at me with rapt attention.

“Servant Turov,” I said, “I can honestly tell you that I didn’t learn one goddamned thing from this exercise—other than the easily verifiable fact that these robots are expensive walking junk.”

The room stayed silent for another second or two, then Servant Turov nodded. “Thank you for your brutal honesty, Centurion McGill.”

“Wait a second!” Cunningham protested. “He was wearing non-regulation armor! He cheated!”

Alexander Turov’s eyes rolled back in my direction, but then Foam intervened. “False. I issued that armor to him days earlier. Since the Glass World campaign, McGill has been wearing such gear with regularity.”

Cunningham sputtered. “But… that’s changing the rules of the game. We weren’t prepared for that. We couldn’t—”

Servant Turov’s hand lifted calmly, and Cunningham instantly fell silent. “Director, it occurs to me that you were throwing new tech at McGill, and he had no trouble adapting. This suit came from the labs at Central, just as your robots did. These suits are becoming increasingly common, and our greatest local enemies from Rigel wear comparable armor all the time. It’s not unreasonable that your new weapon systems should be expected to deal effectively with gear of this kind.”

“But… Servant…”

Turov shook his head gravely. He closed his computer scroll with a decisive motion. “It has been decided—and not just due to this single incident. Your program has been cancelled. Many Central programs are being canceled today. Please return to Earth and turn in whatever is left of your robots. Possibly, they will prove useful at a future date.”

“But, sir!”

“Director, I regret to inform you that you and your lab are no longer funded. Your entire staff will resign, effective immediately. Your letters of resignation will be waiting for you on your tappers within moments. Please accept my heartfelt condolences.”

If I was a betting man, I’d say Director Cunningham didn’t appreciate Turov’s condolences. With what dignity he had left, he marched out of the room. His tribe of slumping sidekicks followed him.

The minute the door shut behind them, I put my fingers to my teeth and whistled. Then I clapped loudly. A few other Varus officers joined in. We all hated those robots—but the celebration died out quickly when I received icy stares from the brass.

I stopped crowing and sat back down again. Things got real dull after that, with a long list of other losers making excuses for their bloated budgets. As an infantryman, I really didn’t have much to defend. Riflemen were as cheap as dirt and twice as plentiful.

Bored, I went and got myself a fourth plate of food, but I was pretty well stuffed by this time, and I could barely finish it.

-28-

When the grand shredding of budgets was finally over and done with, everyone with a gold braid on his sleeve looked like he’d been kicked in the balls. They slunk out of the place like so many stray dogs. I yawned, stretched, and made my way over to the Turovs table as they shuffled their computer scrolls and data chips.

“That was some mighty fine work you did here today, Mr. Servant, sir. Mighty fine.”

Galina’s dad studied me. “You like seeing cuts in the military?”

“Only when we’re wasting money. I’ve never been the showy kind of officer.”

“No… no, I don’t suppose you are. I understand that you’ve been seeing my daughter in a more than casual way. How long has this relationship been going on?”

I blinked a few times, and Galina looked startled as well. Old Alexander wasn’t one to mince words.

“Uh… well, sir, it’s been years now. Maybe even… decades. I hope you’re not offended.”

“Offended…? No, I’m not so old-fashioned as to think Galina would ask my permission before making choices in her personal life. However, you do realize how old my daughter is, don’t you? She’s not all that much younger than I am—”

“Father,” Galina said suddenly, and kind of loudly, “maybe these matters would be best discussed in a private setting.”

“Perhaps so…”

I looked from one to the other. There was some tension here, and that didn’t surprise me. How could there not be a tug-of-war when you had two ambitious rattlesnakes in one family?

“Are you guys inviting me to dinner?” I asked. “I could go for steaks down on Lavender Deck.”

“Steaks?” Galina asked. “You just ate yourself sick at the buffet.”

“That was an hour back at least, and I don’t find roast pig to be very filling, anyways.”

Galina sighed, and she glanced over at her dad. He was studying me with curiosity.

“I’ve also heard of your exploits, McGill,” he said.

“All good, I hope.”

“No… not at all. But upon meeting you, I can understand the natural reactions of others to your unorthodox behavior. I find the entire situation intriguing. I will allow myself to be escorted to this… Lavender Deck?”

“That’s just what we call it,” I said. “The walls aren’t actually purple or anything.”

With poor grace, Galina led the way to the elevators, and we soon arrived on Lavender Deck. As a Servant, Alexander Turov was about the most important personage we’d ever seen onboard Dominus. With him in tow we were naturally ushered toward the finest restaurant the ship had, without hesitation. A navy steward did the ushering, and he was selling everything we passed by like a sales girl on Black Friday.

When a pair of guards spotted me in the mix, however, it was a different story.

“That’s him!” one of them shouted. “That’s the guy! Arrest him!”

“What did you do this time, James?” Galina demanded.

“Uh…”

The guards swarmed me, and they made accusations about the raft of lies I’d fed them the night before. Apparently, there was some dude called Miles Stannish who’d filed a false complaint about harassment. The Turovs listened with interest.

Glancing toward Galina and her father, I gave them a smile and introduced the big man to the guards. “You see this guy here, hog? This is Public Servant Turov—that’s right, he’s a big cheese from Earth. I’m his guest tonight, and I think he might become offended at any moment.”

This straightened out the hog-boys in a hurry. “Servant Turov? We mean no offense, sir. If this man is bothering you, we’ll take him off your hands and down to the brig right now.”

Everyone could see that’s what the hogs wanted. They were practically salivating at the idea.

Alexander turned to his daughter. “Galina? What do you wish to do?”

“I wish McGill could keep his brain operating in a straight line—but seeing as that’s impossible, I guess I want to go to dinner in peace.”

Her dad nodded, and he made a brushing-off gesture in the direction of the hogs. When he stepped toward them, they parted like fish and water running from Moses. He didn’t even look at them.

“Come on, McGill,” Galina said.

I followed them and nodded to the guards. I gave them the thumbs-up and a toothy grin. “See you fellows around.”

A few minutes later we were seated in a quiet booth and ordering from a menu I couldn’t believe. Every item in this place had a four-digit price tag—even the ice water was imported from the glaciers on Jupiter’s fourth biggest moon. It was incredibly expensive.

The Turovs didn’t bat an eye at any of this, so I went a little wild. Before dinner even arrived, I’d had half a bottle of century-old wine and a basket of breadsticks. I’ll be damned if even the breadsticks weren’t heavenly. I was sure they used real wheat of the ancient grain variety, although I’d only heard of such a thing and never tasted it.

“James,” Galina said, “if you can stop chewing for a few minutes, I’d like to ask you something.”

“Sure thing, Galina. Shoot!”

She eyed me seriously. “Did you do all this on purpose?”

“Uh… what now?”

Alexander leaned forward and lowered his voice. “It’s no longer necessary for you to play the fool. We’re asking if you knew about the budget cuts in advance.”

“Oh… no, sir.”

He nodded. “All right. Why then, did you humiliate a director from Central? Such a man can make a formidable enemy.”

“I’m sure he could… but you just fired him, right?” I asked.

“He resigned.”

“Uh… right. You ‘resigned’ him. So what do I have to worry about?”

“James,” Galina said, “no one ever really gets fired from the government. Or at least… not at Cunningham’s level. He’ll go into hiding, working on some low-budget project for a year or two. But then he’ll come back, and right now he hates you as much as Squanto, the High Lord of Rigel does.”

I laughed. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew Squanto. That little dude would move Heaven and Earth to get revenge on me, and he’s tried it more than once.”

Alexander nodded and leaned back in his chair. It seemed like he was thinking hard.

“McGill, I can use a man like you. A man who doesn’t fear political enemies. A man who operates as an elemental force, rather than a fop in a suit. I don’t often meet such men.”

“I’m not surprised, what with being cooped up in Geneva. You should get out to the stars more often, sir. It will grow you some new hair.”

Alexander didn’t laugh at any of my jokes, but a smile flickered now and then. He got what I was saying, I could tell.

The food soon came, and I forgot about everything else. I ate, and I drank, and I hollered a little before I was done.

Galina looked embarrassed, but I could tell she was slightly pleased, too. For all I knew, I was the first dude she’d brought home to her daddy who’d impressed him.

Later that night, I was summoned to her quarters on Lavender Deck. She’d made a show of depositing me on the lifts to go back to my module, then called me the minute her dad was out of her sight.

“I’m staying on Lavender Deck,” she told me.

“Uh… why’s that?”

“Because I’m not running Legion Varus anymore, James. I’m a visiting dignitary now, remember?”

“Oh yeah. I remember.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

She got a little frustrated then. I couldn’t blame her. I’d had a lot to drink, and I was missing cues.

“Do you want to come back down here and visit me or not?”

“Oh…”

Right away, I was thinking of Wendy. We’d hit it off, and we were spending every evening together lately. Still, Galina and I—we were on a whole different level.

For a few long seconds, I found it hard to decide. That was unusual for me, but again, I’d had a lot to drink.

“Galina?” I said. “I… I think have to pass. I’m real tired, and I’m kind of drunk, and I have some training to do in the morning, see—”

“Shut up.”

“Huh?”

“Shut up with your lies, you prick. I’m done with you.”

That was it. She disconnected, and I was left in the dark.

When Wendy showed up at my door about an hour later I was distracted, but she didn’t seem to notice. I was still thinking of Galina and the weird situation with her dad. That was unusual for me. I generally only thought about the people in my immediate vicinity—unless I was worrying about family members.

Galina had sounded a little hurt, and I didn’t want to think about that. I hadn’t meant to hurt her. I argued with myself that she’d shown up out of the blue and put me on trial and then put me on the spot and everything.

Still, I knew the fact I’d impressed her daddy had pleased her, and she’d been in a romantic mood. Now I’d gone and blown it.

Around midnight Wendy started to gently snore, and I finally managed to push everything out of my mind and go to sleep by her side.

-29-

The next day went by without anything horrible happening. I led my troops to the shooting range, ran them a dozen kilometers, and dismissed them early just after 1600 hours. That was met with shocked looks and a ragged cheer.

Unlike everyone else, Leeson tagged after me instead of disappearing before I changed my mind.

“What is it, Adjunct?”

“What’s the deal, McGill?” he asked me. “Have you got a hot date?”

“Always and forevermore.”

“Right, right… is it with Turov? I know she’s aboard.”

I shrugged. It was best to keep the guys guessing.

Most of the people in my unit didn’t much care who I was courting at any given moment, but Leeson always seemed to take a special interest. He liked to watch me and keep score.

“Come on, tell me,” he wheedled. “You’re not still chasing that ball of fluff from Blue Deck? Wendy-something? Hasn’t it been a full week already?”

I frowned at him. “Maybe. Now, why don’t you go find something that’s your business and pay attention to that?”

He laughed again. “Well, sir, maybe it’s because I know something you don’t.”

We eyed each other for a second. I could tell he was enjoying himself. That was generally a bad sign. Leeson wasn’t like Harris, he wasn’t hoping I would die at his feet every hour, but he still liked to see a little pain in my eyes—I swear it.

“How’s that, Adjunct?”

He leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner, lowering his voice. “Did you hear that a certain bio named Wendy Stinson got reassigned to Earth?”

I blinked once, then twice. “What?”

“That’s right. I heard it from a dude I know on Blue—”

That was as far as he got. My big hand came up and pressed against his chest, sending him staggering backward.

I left him cursing in my wake while I marched for the lifts. I was already fuming mad because I knew exactly what had happened.

Galina had done some digging and found out who I was seeing. Like the conniving snake she was, she’d concocted some kind of bullshit to ditch Wendy back on Earth. That was going too far, and it really pissed me off.

Reaching Lavender Deck, the hog patrol tried to stop me, but I dropped a few names and one of the hogs recognized me.

“He was with that Public Servant guy the other night, Sam. Better let him through.”

“That’s right, Sam,” I said. “Time to step aside and look the other way.”

The guards moved out of my way, and I marched to Turov’s apartment. The door was damned nice, with a fancy metal lamp that looked like flowers on either side of it. I hammered on the door, waited a second, then hammered some more. The fancy lights rattled and flickered during this process.

Finally, the door opened—but it wasn’t Galina who stood before me. To my surprise, it was Alexander Turov, her father.

“To what do I owe this intrusion, Centurion?”

“Oh… hello, sir. I thought you’d gone back to Earth. Sorry.”

He looked me up and down oddly, and I had no idea what he was thinking—but right then, I didn’t much care, either. I was steamed at his daughter.

“I was just leaving for the gateway. My daughter is inside. I assume you wish to speak with her?”

“Yessir. Sorry, sir.”

“Never apologize if you don’t mean it.”

My face went slack. “Is that the way you’re supposed to do it? Damnation, I guess I should never have made an apology in my entire life.”

For the first time since I’d met him, the old buzzard seemed amused. He even smiled at me. “I will leave you two in that case. Good day, McGill.”

“Thank you, Mr. Servant, sir.”

I stepped aside, but I didn’t let the door swing shut. I kept my hand on it so it couldn’t lock itself. After he walked on by, I pushed the door full open the second he was out of sight.

“Galina!”

There was no answer, so I barged into the place, looking for her.

She finally came out of the bedroom, and it seemed like she was in the middle of changing her clothes. Most importantly—her pants were missing.

“McGill?” she said in a sweet voice. “What a surprise. What are you doing here?”

“Sir, I’m here to protest abuse by a superior.”

“Oh? What is it this time? Has Winslade beaten you at arm-wrestling again?”

“No, sir. You found out who I was dating, and you turfed her back to Earth.”

Galina had the gall to tilt her head inquisitively to the left. She did that sometimes when she was feigning disbelief. “You’re dating someone? I had no idea.”

“Come on, Galina. Bring Wendy back.”

“I’m afraid it’s out of my hands. Budget cuts and all—you understand. We don’t need all that many bio officers on Blue Deck these days. They’re very costly, and they don’t do much besides watch those revival machines.”

Fuming, I walked to her couch and flopped on it. “That was rude, girl, and you know it.”

“Was it?” she asked, walking lightly over to her mini bar and pouring two drinks. She still wasn’t wearing any pants. Her panties were purple and silky-looking. I tried to look away, but I failed. Glancing around the luxury cabin, I couldn’t see any pants of any kind anywhere.

“Were you walking around half-naked when your dad was in here? What’d he think of that?”

“No, no, I just removed them to be cleaned, you see. I must have forgotten to pack a spare uniform.”

I snorted, taking the drink she handed me and downing it in a gulp. “Yeah, right...”

I knew full well that this woman never left her home without a dozen spare outfits of every variety and description.

Galina sipped her beverage and eyed me like a cat with a canary in her mouth. “Were you extremely attached to this Stinson woman of yours?”

“Uh… I liked her, if that’s what you mean. She was sweet and all.”

“She killed you just to win a bet a few days ago. Did you know that?”

I winced. Galina had done her homework. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Is Wendy all right? You didn’t, like, have her permed or something, did you?”

“Of course not. I’m no barbarian.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I let out a sigh. “You have to stop doing stuff like this. It’s just not right.”

“Stuff like what?” she asked.

“Like getting all jealous and abusing innocent people.”

This last accusation finally seemed to land. She became irritable. “Quit whining. I didn’t even kill her. She’s fine. Do you want me to arrange a date for her with Gary?”

“What? No, I don’t want that.”

I checked my tapper and found out that yes, Galina’s father had left the ship. That brought the tension level down a notch or two right there, knowing that he wasn’t going to walk in and catch us.

I considered leaving. I really did… but as some women knew, an overvaluation of beauty was a weakness of mine. A character flaw, if you will.

Instead of storming out like I should have, I sulked on her couch while she fed me another drink.

Now, don’t go thinking that I don’t know when I’m being played. I was very well aware of what Galina was up to. I’d done similar things a hundred times myself, and I’d been the recipient of such bullshit on nearly as many occasions. Still though, Galina knew her business. She was smooth, seductive, and very tempting.

After a while, we went out to dinner. Not a single hog-boy tried to throw me off Lavender Deck this time, seeing as I was being escorted by yet another VIP. That was a nice change of pace.

We ate some fine food and drank some fine wine. In the end, I spent the night with her—I’m not proud about that, but there it is. I’m a deeply flawed man, and I know it in my heart.

The sex was good, but our peaceful re-acquaintance didn’t even last all the way to the next blissful morning. Instead, at around 3:00 o’clock in the morning, alarms rang all over the ship. Flashing lights began to spin. Being legion officers and accustomed to emergencies, we rolled out of bed and dragged on our uniforms. Her pants seemed to come out of nowhere.

“Is this some kind of bullshit drill?” Galina demanded.

“I don’t think so, sir. My tapper says… it says there’s a hull breach.”

“What sector?” she demanded.

“Uh… aft. Near engineering.”

“Go check it out and report back to me.”

After hustling to pull my gear on, I managed to stumble out into the passages. Every private luxury cabin had a nose sticking out of it.

“Centurion?” asked an old lady wearing a yellow pantsuit. “What’s going on?”

“Uh… I don’t rightly know, ma’am. Just stay in your cabin until the sirens stop blowing.”

She didn’t like that much, but she didn’t argue. I left Lavender Deck and headed down to engineering.

Graves found me using the magic of tappers and location services. “Centurion? What are you doing outside your assigned battle station?”

“I’m following orders, sir. A certain imperator sent me aft to check things out.”

“A certain…? Oh. Seriously, McGill? Turov is aboard for two days, and you all but go AWOL immediately?”

“Think of it as a special assignment, sir.”

He sighed. “Fine. Do whatever you want. I’m giving your unit to Leeson until you return to duty.”

I didn’t much like that, but I couldn’t argue.

Hustling down to engineering, I found about a thousand damage control spacers were climbing over the decks, working on everything. They’d turned off the gravity so they could reach everything at once. The technicians looked like ants swarming all over a soup can.

I found a chief and hooked his arm.

“What’s up, Centurion?” he asked, frowning at my big hand.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Sir, I don’t have time—”

Lifting my tapper, I touched the record button and aimed it at him. “The imperator sent me down here for an eyewitness account. Make your statement.”

“Uh… the imperator? Well... sir… maybe I should find an officer.”

“No, no. You’ll do fine. Start talking.”

“We don’t know everything yet. There was an explosion down here near the engines.”

“Is the warp drive damaged?” I asked sharply.

“No, sir. It’s our system drive that’s wrecked. The one we use to get around in normal space after—”

“I got it. How bad is it?”

“Bad. The explosion blew out part of the firing chamber, making a hole all the way through to the external layers of the hull.”

“That’s why I got a hull breach notice...” I said, thinking it over. “I get it. Okay Chief, what’s your best estimate?”

The poor guy looked even more flustered. “For repairs? Sir, I don’t have the authority—”

“Listen, I just want a number of hours. A guess will do.”

“Okay… forty hours to get underway again—warp only. Five hundred hours to do the full repair on the system drive. That’s assuming that we’re at a dry-dock station all that time.”

“Five hundred…? Holy crap. Okay, get back to work.”

He scurried off, and I relayed the report to Galina, but she had already listened in through the live feed on my tapper.

“This is sabotage, McGill. Who would do such a thing?”

“Uh… lots of people.”

“Yes of course, but which one among the assholes who are aboard?” she asked.

“Well sir, you can’t count out the nerds your daddy just fired.”

“No, I suppose we can’t. There’s also that pushy squid we just put in charge of Legion Varus. This is vexing. I’m going to have to return to Central immediately, before anyone realizes I’m still aboard this smoking wreck.”

“Uh…” I said, realizing she hadn’t quite understood the situation. “I don’t know if you can do that, Imperator.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well sir, you do realize that we keep the gateway posts down here in engineering, right? I mean… in this very sector of the ship?”

Galina did some quick checking on her own tapper, and she learned the awful truth. The gateway posts had been toasted.

She began cursing something awful. I had to mute her after a while, as people walking by kept craning their necks and giving me weird looks when they heard what was coming from my tapper.

When she’d gotten all that rage out of her system, she talked to me again through gritted teeth. “Are you certain all the gateway posts aboard were destroyed?”

“It sure looks that way to me, sir. Sorry.”

Her eyes, normally pretty and seductive, took on an insane light. “This is entirely your fault, McGill!”

“Huh? How do you figure that?”

“If you could have kept your dick in your pants before I got here I wouldn’t have stayed last night. I would have left with my father and been fifty light years away by now!”

“Hold on right there. It seems to me I wasn’t the only one having trouble keeping my pants on last night. You took off yours first, if I do remember correctly.”

She didn’t like that much, especially because it was true. She cursed again for a long time, so I muted her once more. When she’d finally settled down and noticed I wasn’t listening, she overrode my mute on her microphone and ordered me to meet her upstairs.

“Where upstairs?”

“On Gold Deck, of course. I have to assume command of this shit-show before anyone screws it up any further.”

“But won’t that assign the blame for this disaster to you?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m stuck here on this accursed ship, and I’ve got the highest rank aboard. No matter what happens now, everything is going to be my fault from here on out. Damn it, I wish they hadn’t hit the gateway posts!”

I thought about her predicament for a moment or two. “Maybe you could purloin a teleport suit or something. To sneak away, I mean.”

“Maybe… but I hate those things. For now, you will come here to escort me. That’s an order.”

I did an about-face, leaving engineering. The hustle and bustle of damage repair bots and men was noisy and desperate, and I was just as happy to leave it all behind.

-30-

Galina walked onto Gold Deck like she owned the place. The two gold sunbursts on her shoulders silenced everyone who got in our way.

I trudged along behind her like a guard dog. I’d picked up a combat rifle, which wasn’t a cool thing to carry onto a starship’s bridge—but I did it anyway.

I could tell the ship’s marines were bristling at the very sight of me. But Galina’s rank kept them quiet. I had to admit, owning the chain of command was a big advantage when it came to making things go your way.

“Ah…” Captain Merton said when we walked up to him. “Glad you could take a break from your busy schedule to visit the crew, Imperator.”

“Captain Merton, I’m here in an official capacity. I’m relieving you of mission command—effective immediately.”

Merton blinked once, then twice. His eyes traveled from the small angry form of Imperator Turov up to the rifle-toting ape-man she’d brought with her. “I see… very well. I’ll be in my quarters if you need something else.”

That impressed me. Was he actually going to pull a James McGill style walk-out? Yes, he was. He marched toward the exit resolutely without another word.

“Halt, Captain,” Galina called after him. “You haven’t been dismissed yet. Give me a full situational briefing.”

Reluctantly, Merton returned. He gave her the long-winded version of the story the chief had provided down at engineering. I was bored before it was half over.

The basics went like this: we were screwed. We could fly in warp once we patched the outer hull, but when we reached Mintaka, we wouldn’t be able to cross the star system normally at sub-space speeds.

“Hmm…” Galina said. “How close can you get to the target planet? What if we warp directly into orbit?”

Merton frowned and shook his head. “That wouldn’t be safe, Imperator. Especially with a damaged engine room.”

“How close?”

Merton waved for his navigator, who’d been listening in. She stepped forward to deliver her answer. “I can get you as close as one hundred thousand kilometers—but it would be better if we move to two hundred thousand out.”

“What? Is this a warship or a space station? Cut that range to fifty thousand, and we have a deal.”

The navigator shook her head. “Can’t do it, sir. A hundred thousand is already pushing the margin of error when everything is working perfectly.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I select any set of destination coordinates and go into warp, our computers should take us back out within one hundred thousand kilometers of the target. But if we cut it any closer to the planet, there’s a chance we’ll end up merging with a mountain range or something.”

“Oh… I see the problem now—you’re a coward.”

The navigator’s smug expression faltered. “How’s that, sir?”

“If we choose a point fifty thousand kilometers out, what are the odds of actually hitting the planet?”

“Uh… I’ll have to do some calculations,” the navigator lady said in a faltering voice.

“You go do that,” Galina said. “I would estimate they’re lower than five percent. Merton, in the meantime you’ll plan for an invasion assault from fifty thousand kilometers away from the planet.”

“That’s still pretty far out,” Captain Merton replyed. “We’ll have to use lifters, or possibly jump troops with teleport harnesses. Which do you think would be more viable?”

“Do I have to do everything? Go figure it out.”

Merton left with a sour nod. Galina was good at demanding things and delegating work, I had to give it to her. I knew the navigator and captain would work to give her the most they could from Dominus.

“If you don’t push these people, they pad everything in the name of safety,” she told me when they’d both left.

We walked together to the tactical battle table which already had the Mintaka star system laid out. There were seven planets, but we were only interested in one of them.

Galina chased off a bunch of lieutenants and a commander, and then she laid her hands directly on the controls for the planning table. She spread her fingers, causing the view to zoom sickeningly toward the planet in question.

“Ice World,” she said. “Everyone who watched your spy video likes the name. I don’t know what’s wrong with Mintaka, but I’m not going to make a fuss about it.”

“Good thinking, sir. Simple names are always more appealing.”

“James, you’re the only legionnaire who’s been to this frozen rock. How do you suggest we do this?”

I glanced at her in surprise. “Uh… shouldn’t we let Merton and his boys come up with a plan before we go second-guessing?”

She showed me her teeth, and she lowered her voice. “Think like an officer. I’m going to be briefed by people who hate me. I want to sound smart. Give me your gut plan, and I can always decide if their plan is better.”

“Oh… sure, I get it.”

Galina looked pleased. She often preferred to let other people do her thinking for her—even the thinking she was about to assign to herself. I had to admit, her method was definitely easier than using your own brain.

Looking at the map, I thought it over and began narrowing things down. “It all depends on how far out we are when we arrive in orbit. If we’re really close—in other words, a few thousand kilometers, we can use the drop pods. That seems unlikely, though. That navigator lady will cheat, see. She’ll tell you she’s aiming for fifty thousand out, but she’ll put gravy on that ‘cause she’s a chicken—just like you said.”

“Right. Of course. Obstruction at every turn, I must expect that.”

“So… let’s say she hits right on, that would put us at maybe seventy thousand klicks out from the planet. Way too far to use drop pods.”

“You think that bitch will actually bullshit me by twenty thousand?”

“I sure do. Captain Merton might even insist upon it.”

Together, we glanced across the bridge. Not far away, the navigator and captain were having their own huddle over a similar table.

Galina snarled. “I should have them shot preemptively—but anyway, continue.”

“Right, so there are three ways to do this. We can use drop-pods—but we’ll almost certainly be too far away. We can use lifters, but they can be shot down, and they’ll give the enemy lots of warning.”

“And the third way?”

“We mass up some boys on Gray Deck and pop down with a teleport attack right from the get-go. They’ll have no warning, no nothing.”

“That is optimal… but teleport harnesses are expensive, and we can only send perhaps a hundred jump-troops at a time. How many armed enemies did you count down there?”

“Well… I can’t really say. It was a valley in the mountains—a big place. The problem was I was in the middle of a snowstorm. I couldn’t really count heads, see.”

“All right, all right… let’s guess there are a thousand Clavers. If I send you with a unit of our best, can you kill them all before the lifters get down with help?”

My mouth sagged in unhappy surprise. “Me? And a hundred men? I don’t know. I can do some damage, sure. I might be able to stay alive until relief comes—maybe. But I don’t think I can win a firefight with such a small number against all those Clavers.”

She nodded, her eyes reflecting the blue glow of the holo table. “Good enough. All right, I have a plan. Now, go back to playing the dummy.”

“Yessir.”

When Merton and his crew finally approached, they laid out a plan. Dominus would pop down to within fifty thousand kilometers—God willing—and we’d send out five lifters of troops to invade. The lifters would take nearly an hour to land by their estimate.

“That’s it?” Galina demanded. “What about a teleportation commando group to lead the assault? I don’t want them watching us and preparing for a full hour before we land. I might even lose lifters if we play it that way.”

Merton looked mildly surprised. “Bold… but yes, we could do that. How many commandos?”

“One unit. Enough to give them some heartache from the beginning.”

“All right,” Merton said, eyeing the maps. They were sketchy, but they were all we had. The planet was an icy wilderness of forests and mountains. “I have an additional suggestion: let’s scan the planet before we launch the commandos.”

“That will waste time! Why does everyone in Fleet want to slow things down?” Galina demanded.

“A thrust well-aimed is worth the wait, Imperator. If we can locate their air defenses and send the commandos there, they’ll do the most good. Also, a ten-minute delay will give the lifters that long to get closer. We’ll detect their sensors pinging at us and drop McGill’s unit right on top of them.”

“Uh…” I said. I was beginning to feel alarmed. Why was it everyone with twisty pieces of gold fabric on his arms thought I should be fed to the nearest cannon as fast as possible?

Galina had no such qualms, however. “You’re right, Merton. I like it. McGill—get your men ready. According to the repair estimates and flight times you’ve got about a hundred hours to prepare for this attack.”

“That’s mighty considerate of you, sirs. You can count on old McGill to get the job done right.”

“Yes, yes—dismissed.”

That was the kind of girlfriend Galina was and always had been. She had a heart, sure… but it was kind of dark and rough, with a rock-hard surface and precious little room for any nonsense inside. In short, it was as if a lump of coal thumped away in her chest.

After bringing the bad news about leading the assault on Ice World to my module full of troops, they looked like a sad pack of hounds. But they quickly pulled together despite their worries, and we started drilling and doing regular ready-checks every eight hours.

Two evenings later we got the ship underway again, and Dominus flashed off into a shiny new warp-bubble. The night after that, I was summoned by the Earth’s smallest imperator. I checked on her location hopefully, figuring I might wangle another nice dinner down on Lavender Deck—but it was not to be. Galina was on Gold Deck, and that meant she must still be working.

“Damnation…” I muttered to myself. “There are precious few breaks for the wicked on this ship.”

Still grumbling, I hurried off toward the lifts.

-31-

The command staff looked like they’d discovered a new kind of turd when I arrived on the bridge. Every navy puke present—even the marine guards—sneered in disgust.

I ignored all this negativity and swaggered toward Turov and Merton without a second glance at their lesser minions.

“Hello sirs, what can I do you for?”

“This will be your final pre-assault briefing, McGill,” Imperator Turov informed me. “Please pay close attention.”

“Uh… okay.”

Merton gave me the run-down personally. “Centurion, we will be approaching our target planet soon. We’ll collapse the warp field and reenter normal space as close to the atmosphere as possible. With any luck, we’ll be in orbit and near enough to begin our assault immediately.”

He showed me lots of arcing lines and numbers. These were the planned trajectories the lifters were going to take. I tried to stifle a yawn, but I pretty much failed.

“Am I boring you, Centurion?”

“What—? Noooo, Captain-sir. I’m riveted, really I am. Please continue.”

He did so, but I didn’t absorb much of it. The short version was my team would wait until the enemy fired on the lifters. If they had anti-space missiles or beam emplacements, we’d see them fire at the incoming invasion ships. The moment they did, my jump-unit would be given the coordinates and the all-clear to attack.

Our mission was to take out their anti-air batteries—if they had any. Once that was done, our secondary mission was to sow as much confusion and panic as we could until the lifters came down and the main assault began.

“What about our fighters, sir?” I asked. “Or our broadsides?”

“They might play into this action,” Merton admitted, “but probably not. We’re here to retrieve valuable artifacts, McGill—”

“You mean steal the coins, sir?”

“Crudely put, but yes. Blowing up those coins would be counter to our primary mission.”

“I get it, sir. I truly do. When you rob a bank, it’s dumb to use a nuke.”

“Yes… well… any questions?” he asked.

“Yessir. How long until we light this bottle rocket?”

Merton checked the displays. “Three hours, more or less. It’s hard to be precise. Our navigator is reading gravitational data continuously, trying to sense the mass of the target world.”

“Only three hours? Holy crap, I better get going.”

“You’re dismissed, McGill,” he told me.

I spun on my heel and high-tailed it off the bridge. Once out of sight of the brass, I slowed down to a sedate walking pace. Three hours was lots of time. My unit was ready to scramble and launch in half an hour flat, but it always shortened worthless briefings if you acted like you were in an all-fired hurry to prepare.

Whistling an old outlaw tune about republics and battles, I rode the lifts down to my module and chewed on some troops who were lounging. I soon had them running and jumping, stuffing away gear, counting ordnance and anything else I could think of.

After an hour of the old razzle-dazzle prep time, they looked ready to fly to me. I led them all down to the mess and shared a final meal with the whole group. The troops always appreciated that sort of thing, when an officer ate with the grunts instead of with his peers upstairs.

“Don’t let them stuff themselves,” Leeson admonished. “They’ll puke on the drop.”

“That should only be a worry for the greenest recruits.”

Leeson shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past some of our senior regulars…”

“All right. Let’s have Moller play goalie. No seconds at the lunch counter.”

This was done, and we soon returned to our module, picked up all our gear and marched to Gray Deck for the assault.

Things like this always took longer than you would think possible. We stood around all trussed-up like Christmas turkeys while techs swarmed us checking wires and harnesses. Every battery was charged and double-checked for transmission six times over.

This was more tedious than a regular drop-pod attack if you asked me. Instead of the exhilarating whoosh and chop of the pods slamming over people, there was very little movement. We were antsy, with no release in sight. Maintaining a high state of readiness for a long time was damaging for morale, so I had the officers lead the troops in a rousing chant to Earth.

We sang the Unification Song, Glory to the Empire and even a single chorus of Our Mogwa Patrons. Finally, running out of ideas, I taught them Battle Hymn of the Republic, which precious few had ever heard before. They stumbled over old, unfamiliar words like hallelujah, but they seemed to like the tune.

Primus Graves appeared on the deck when we were in mid-song, and he instantly recognized it.

“McGill? Are you leading these troops in an open act of sedition?”

“Sedition, sir?” I asked. “Only if that means keeping up spirits and making hearts soar before battle.”

“Right… You know, I haven’t heard that outlaw song since I was called Lt. Ryan Graves, back when I was a pilot myself. But that was in a different service, and a very different time and place… Never mind, it was way before you were born.”

“Uh… yessir,” I said, not knowing how to take this sudden contemplation from Graves.

Primus Graves or Lt. Graves… either way, he was scary-old. He’d admitted to being in Legion Varus for a century—but how long had he lived before that? God himself only knew. I was sure he’d been rattling around Earth before the Mogwa ever showed up to annex our green planet, but I’d never learned exactly how old he really was. The only thing I knew for sure was he was one mean old bastard.

“Okay,” Graves said at last, “everyone shut up and brace yourselves. We’re coming out of warp right now.”

True to his word, we felt the big ship shudder. The power glitched, and it felt for just a second as if we were standing in two places at once—a transitional effect we commonly experienced when entering or exiting a warp bubble.

For a few seconds, no one dared to breathe. We might, after all, have merged up with a solid object or—

Overhead, the speakers began to blare. Klaxons sounded and flashers spun. “Emergency! All hands, move to battle stations!”

I signaled Natasha, indicating I wanted input. She flicked a gloved finger over her tapper, sending me a data feed. We’d worked out some channels to leech off while we were waiting around. I hadn’t been sure we’d need to see the big picture—but I was already becoming concerned.

“Holy shit…” I breathed. “We’re right on top of the clouds!”

Graves sternly examined the same data I did. “I see that. We can’t move farther away, either—not without warping.”

“James,” Natasha said, stepping close to my side, “the bridge says this orbit isn’t stable. We’re going to have to jump again soon.”

Graves gave her a hard stare, but he didn’t ask how she’d come up with command-level information so fast. He knew better than to question it.

We felt the ship shudder. I looked around at the walls of Gray Deck. “Are we hitting the atmosphere already?”

“No,” Graves said, “I don’t think so. That’s from Red Deck—they’re launching all the lifters. You’re feeling them kick Dominus in the ribs, that’s all.”

That’s when I realized the battle for Ice World was truly in motion.

-32-

I looked around. The techs were scurrying everywhere, but they weren’t launching us—not yet. “Do we have a target, Primus? We need jump coordinates.”

Graves gave his head a shake. “Right… shit. At this rate, you’ll land after the lifters do. Techs!”

A few panicked faces circled around him.

“There’s no time to pinpoint AA batteries. Put McGill’s team down right where he landed the last time.”

They looked shocked, and they did nothing for about a second. Graves quickly exploded. “Move! Move! Move!”

Techs scrambled like frightened mice. My own men hunched over their launch stations, and we all took tighter grips on our rifles.

All of sudden, a squad of lights began to flash blue—then more of them did. A few others throbbed—but not everyone at once.

“What’s wrong?” Graves demanded.

“We’ve got a power overload,” one of the techs told him. “We have to draw on the engines to fire off all the harnesses at once. The problem is the bridge crew is building up a charge now as well. They must be trying to take the whole ship back into warp.”

“What? You morons! Don’t use the ship’s power! Disengage from the engines. Use the batteries in their harnesses.”

“But sir—McGill’s men won’t be able to port back.”

“That’s too damned bad. Send them all—send them all now.”

That was the last thing I heard, because the room started to strobe for me as well. Gray Deck was flashing in and out of existence.

I brought my rifle to my shoulder and sighted along the length of it. If any Clavers were lollygagging in that cave down there—well sir, they were in for quite a surprise.

With so many of us going down at once, we might have been screwed blue if we hadn’t been an experienced bunch. As it was, seven men merged up with the rocky walls of the cave—or with each other.

I walked among the crowd, dispensing a bolt into the skull of any troop who was gasping like a fish, too crippled to fight. After thirty seconds, the rest of my unit had all reached the LZ. We were ready to fight and looking for targets.

“Barton, take a squad out of the cave. Recon and give me a live feed. Kivi, buzzers—I want them everywhere. Let’s get eyes on the enemy, people!”

Adjunct Barton led her first squad into the daylight. I’ll be damned if it wasn’t snowing again, just like the last time I’d been here. I suspected the weather was pretty predictable on this frozen rock.

Checking the feed coming from the light troopers and the buzzers, I immediately became concerned. The base in the valley was thronged with new armament. A dozen sleek towers spun and aimed up into space. They fired up beams of lidar and other sensors. I saw them opening apertures.

“1st Heavy Platoon, forward!” I ordered. “Leeson, get your weaponeers right on their tails. Fire on those batteries before they take out our lifters!”

Total confusion reigned in the cave. It was too small for a hundred troops, and everyone was stepping on toes. I was no exception to this, rushing forward and shoving lights aside to clear my path.

Harris was ahead of me. He was personally commanding the first platoon of heavies, and you could tell he wasn’t a happy camper. I was six kinds of sorry about that, but we were all going to have to do or die at this point.

Less than a minute after we’d arrived planet-side, our first beam lanced out and melted the side of one of the missile batteries. It was in the very act of firing at that moment, and the whole installation went up in a fireball of smoke and flame.

“Well, if they didn’t know we were here before, they do now,” Leeson told me.

I pointed toward the next missile launcher. “Beam that one—use your missiles on the rest across the valley.”

He hustled to comply, and soon we were laying down some righteous firepower from those icy slopes.

The enemy response wasn’t long in coming. A series of hatches opened in the middle of the base. Black-dressed troops poured out of all of them. Hunched figures in heavy winter gear moved in our general direction, like beetles swarming over bones.

“Barton, Harris, put all your fire down on those troops! Get them ducking!”

A storm of small arms fire began. We were partially exposed on these rocky slopes, but it was always better to have the high ground. Every boulder on the mountainside had a soldier behind it, and we were all working our rifles for all we were worth.

The enemy troops were Claver-Threes, I was pretty sure about that. They were the most basic but physically capable of the clone types. They were dumb, mean, and absolutely incorruptible.

Two minutes of hard fighting passed. To be honest, I was already starting to feel good about this fight. Sure, we were eventually going to eat a biscuit up here on this mountainside. There was no way we could stop a thousand enemy troops from overwhelming us, even though we had the better terrain and the element of surprise.

But that didn’t matter. We were buying the time the legion so desperately needed to get our lifters down on the ground. Once all of Legion Varus and our supporting zoo-legion was deployed farther down the valley, the base was doomed. Sure, we’d all be dead by then… but those were the breaks.

My growing sense of elation and victory was short-lived, however. A crackling buzz began overhead, and it spread rapidly across the sky.

Looking up and gaping, our rate of fire slowed and almost stopped. All over the valley, to the limits of our vision in the snowstorm, a glassy field was appearing above us.

Harris growled in frustration. He grabbed Leeson roughly and pointed overhead. “That’s a force field. We’re inside a dome now—and we’re trapped under it with them!” He pointed down into the valley, where the black-coated Clavers were still pouring out of their underground bunkers like ants.

Looking around, I realized Harris was right. The entire valley seemed to be domed-over, with blue-white electrical flashes showing us where the field was contacting falling snow. It was like being under an umbrella made of electricity.

The dome seemed to let the weather through it. The snow penetrated the force field, as did the high winds. Experimentally, I fired a few bolts at the roof that enclosed us. They were reflected.

“Never mind that dome,” I ordered. “Keep up your rate of fire. If we kill all of them, we win. We can do it!”

Even as I said these words, I knew they were a bald-faced lie. Most of my troops did, too. Certainly, my officers knew I was full of shit.

Still, no one threw down his weapon and ran, nor did they try to surrender or cry for their mommas. This was Legion Varus, and if we were good at any one thing, it was dying hard.

-33-

The long and the short of it was we were wiped out. After most of us died a gruesome death, the survivors were pushed back into the caves we’d come from. Something like forty minutes after we landed, it was almost over.

Some of my men tried to escape. They tried to teleport out—but their crushed bodies tumbled back down from the sky, thumping and splatting on the rocks outside.

“They can’t pass the barrier,” Kivi explained to me in a wheezing voice. She’d been lung-shot, but she still had some strength in her. She was just gasping for air whenever she spoke.

“Not even with a full charge?” I asked.

“No. I checked. Even the last few of Barton’s lights who retreated into this rat hole can’t get out. We’re trapped, sir. What are your orders?”

Kivi eyed me, and I eyed her back. I didn’t have much hopeful stuff going on inside my head. Harris, Barton, Leeson—they were all dead. Sargon had died early. They’d gone for him and his weaponeers first, as we had been effectively destroying their AA batteries.

“Okay… okay, let me think…”

“I’ve got an idea, sir,” asked a voice from nowhere.

I reached out a fast hand, but it closed on nothing. Cooper, my top-rated ghost specialist, had gotten good at throwing his voice. It was a survival skill for him.

“Tell me your idea, you chicken-shit,” I said.

“I’m going to strike out from this cave before they get here. I’ll try to find my way out of the valley. If I make it before I freeze to death, I’ll let them know we wiped.”

I thought it over for about five seconds. Finally, I nodded. “What about Della? Is she—?”

“She’s gone, sir. I’m your last ghost.”

I nodded. “Go Cooper. Go. Take the roster of dead with you.” After I transmitted the files to his tapper, he took off. He was probably outside the cave, sprinting away from this deadly trap as fast as he could—and I couldn’t really blame him.

“McGill,” Kivi said, “if he dies out there, alone, and the legion finds us… they might never find him. He might be permed.”

“Better a chance of that than having us all be permed right now.”

She shut up, and we hunkered down as a squad of heavy Clavers reached the cave entrance. Kivi set off three grenades she’d rigged on our doorstep, and the Clavers melted.

“That won’t hold them for long,” she said. “If they’re smart, they’ll just fire shells in here until they’re sure we’re all dead.”

“Yeah… we don’t have long. Got any ideas?”

“We could… no… not now, it’s too late.”

“What?”

She wheezed tiredly. I could tell her mind was fogging due to her injuries. She’d stopped coughing. Maybe she was going into shock. “I was thinking we could use the charged teleport suits, retarget them just outside the valley and then run out of the dome on foot. Maybe someone could escape that way.”

“That’s a great idea!” I told her.

Kivi shook her head. She pointed out the cave entrance. “We can’t do it. The only charged harnesses are out there—Barton’s lights were wearing them when they died.”

“Oh yeah… shit.” My mind churned for a moment, but then I got an idea. I contacted Cooper, tapper to tapper. He didn’t answer right off, so I used my override code to force the issue.

Not being a complete asshole, I didn’t say anything. I muted my microphone, in fact. I didn’t want to give away his position just in case he was sneaking past a Claver patrol right now.

“…Centurion?” a voice whispered about a minute later. “What the fuck is this? A pants-check? Let me do my job, sir!”

“Your job has changed, Cooper. You’re going to sneak back here, and you’re going to bring a charged teleport harness with you. That’s an order.”

Cooper cursed me a bit, and I didn’t blame him at all. Then the signal went dead.

I sighed and put my rifle back to my shoulder. Either he’d do it, he’d fail, or he’d ignore my order and do what he wanted. No matter which of these paths lay ahead, further calls weren’t going to help.

Two more squads assaulted the cave entrance, but we repelled them. Claver-Threes weren’t too bright, you have to understand.

Clavers were created in three basic forms. There were Claver-Primes, who were the smart bossy ones. The original model. Claver-Twos were technicians. Unimaginative, loyal, just smart enough to do the job. They were the worker-bees of the hive.

The most common flavor however were the Class-Threes. These gorillas were made for combat and obedience, nothing else. It was my impression that the ruling Clavers feared making armed versions of themselves for defense, so they’d concocted a genetic mix that was pretty stupid. It was this stupidity that we were able to take advantage of now in our last stand.

“McGill?” a voice called into the cavern.

It wasn’t Cooper. It was a Claver-Prime. My teeth bared themselves when I heard that voice.

“What do you want, Claver?”

“Prisoners, that’s what. Drop your weapons and come on out of there. We can talk.”

“I’m not interested.”

“That’s foolish, boy. Even for you. You’re trapped in there—even a first-class dolt such as yourself should have figured that out by now.”

“We’ll keep killing your boys until you run out, or we do. Or maybe, when our assault ships land, we’ll spit on all your dead faces.”

Claver laughed. “That’s not a very neighborly attitude. Here I am, trying to help you out because I’m feeling extremely generous today—and you’re shitting on my hospitality.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” I shouted back. I’d already decided to keep him talking as long as I could to give Cooper more time.

“I’m sure you are, but let’s do a little thought-experiment together, okay?”

“A thought-experiment?” I asked, feeling elated. That sounded like a giant time-waster. But I didn’t want to seem too eager, so I answered him in a scoffing manner. “Shit, Claver, just tell me what you want.”

He laughed again. “I want you as my prisoner, I already told you. But what I’m going to do now is go through some mental gymnastics called thinking—something you might not be familiar with.”

“What’s the frigging point?”

“The point is that if you’ll listen to me, you dumb ape, you’ll realize you should surrender pronto.”

Thinking for a second, I came up with another distraction. “Hey,” I shouted, “what’s with all the Claver-Threes? I thought you guys used dog-men now.”

“You’re right,” the prime shouted back. “Most of our planets do use specially bred hybrids these days, but we’re old school here. I suppose when these clowns die out, we’ll replace them with canines.”

“What’s it like living with dog-men anyway? I always wondered—”

“Are you stalling me, McGill?” Claver snapped back. “I’m beginning to smell a rat, here.”

Kivi and I eyed one another. She looked kind of half-dead, but she showed me a detonator. “I think I can nail him with these charges. He has to be close to the cave entrance.”

I signaled for her to stand-down, and she lay back on the rocks and closed her eyes.

“All right,” I called out to Claver. “Let’s talk about surrender. Why should I even consider it?”

“That’s the topic I’m interested in. My pitch goes like this: You came out here a few weeks back—you still remember doing that, right?”

“I sure do. Your Lady Claver made me feel right at home. I think she has a thing for me.”

He was quiet for a second, but when he started talking again, he sounded kind of pissed. “You’d best not be talking shit about my one and only sister. You hear me? If you do any more of that, I’ll dust off your survivors right here and now.”

“Whatever,” I said. “Just tell me your damned story.”

“Try to keep up. You came out here, and you talked to us, and then you took off. The last time you did that, our base was attacked a few days later. So… what do you think we expected this time?”

“Uh… an attack?”

“Bingo! You see, my brothers? I told you he wasn’t as dumb as you guys. Almost that dumb, but not quite. So, McGill, the point is we expected this attack. How could we not?”

What he was saying made sense. I was frowning, as I didn’t like the way this fireside chat was progressing. “Get to the point, Claver, or we’re going to have to blow all the mines we left near the entrance of the cave.”

We heard nothing from him for about a minute, but then something was thrown into the cave. It was a com-box. The thing lit up, and Claver’s voice came out of it.

“Listen to me, you irritating man. I’m trying to help you, you idiot!”

I laughed. “Sounds like you wet yourself and threw a com-box in here to do your talking for you. But okay, okay. Explain away.”

“We sent for help, McGill. Lots of help. We’ve got cash here, you see. I’ve learned over the years that people like money. Even aliens like Imperial Credits. I’m paying them for help, and they’re arriving real soon. They might even be in orbit right now.”

That thought alarmed me. All of a sudden, I was getting what he was talking about.

We had, after all, pretty much telegraphed this attack with my recon mission. This base might not be the only Claver base, but it was certainly their piggy bank. They wanted to protect it.

Without enough troops or ships of their own... they’d done what rich people with no army had always done in history—they’d hired their defenders.

“Huh…” I said. “That’s very interesting, and it makes sense, but I’m not quite sure why you’re telling me this.”

“Because I want to get information out of you, and I can get more out of a live body than a dead one. I want you to understand that if you die right now—you’re permed. There’s no way come hell or high-water Legion Varus is busting into this fortress before my mercenaries arrive. I’ll grant you that that initial surprise strike was good, but it didn’t take us out. That’s all that matters now.”

While Claver was speeching, something pressed against my ribs. I reflexively lashed out—and Cooper’s invisible body rolled in the dirt. He was invisible, but I now saw what had been pushing into my belly. It was a teleport harness, and the battery light was shining green.

I grinned. “Sorry, Cooper. Good job.”

“Thank you, sir…”

“Now,” I told him in a whisper, “I want you to worm your way to the front of this cave, and throw a grenade into Claver’s teeth. Make sure you’re dead-on.”

“Uh… are you sure about that, sir?”

“Reveal yourself as you do it. Make sure the Class-Threes see you do this—that way, they’ll murder you instantly, and you can get your revive.”

“You’re all heart, Centurion.”

He vanished and I saw the dirt move where he’d been.

Over the next ninety seconds or so, I had Kivi dream up some coordinates that should reach to the other side of the mountain we were sitting inside of. Fortunately, her computer was still in good shape, and she had a full scan of the area recorded inside it.

“Dammit, McGill, answer me!” Claver demanded. “You’re trying my patience! Will you surrender or not? Not even a dolt like you can be so—”

Claver cut off, and I saw sporadic fire at the cave entrance. At the same time, the outside world flashed with the impact of a grav-plasma grenade. Grunting Claver-Threes ran in every direction, but they were knocked flat. As far as I could tell, the prime who’d been talking to us had died, too.

A few seconds later, the cave lit up like a Hegemony Day celebration. The Clavers were unloading grenades and everything else they had in a full-on rage.

“Good old Cooper…” I said, and I touched the teleport button.

I vanished and reappeared in the crowning branches of one of those weird-looking, swirly pine trees. My left boot was hooked up, so I didn’t fall to the ground right off. Slashing at the branch I was tangled up with, I broke free and fell another dozen meters.

Fortunately, the branches and the snowy ground broke my fall. I wasn’t dead yet—not by a long shot. Lifting my leg, I examined my left foot. Just as I thought, there was a pine branch sticking out of it. I’d merged up with the tree when I’d teleported out here.

Dammit. I was just on the inside the dome, but outside the ring of mountains. Hobbling on my messed-up left foot, I made it to the dome and pushed through it, exiting the force field. The field itself was kind of weird feeling, it was like pushing through a giant mess of spider webs. I could tell it wasn’t a solid wall, but rather one meant to keep out fast moving things like bullets and missiles.

Once I broke through and was outside the dome, I checked my gear. There wasn’t enough juice left in the harness to jump to Dominus—and I didn’t know exactly where she was in any case. What I was able to do, however, was connect the battery to my tapper to amp the output. I aimed a signal into the sky and gave it a shot.

A minute passed. Then a second minute came and went. By minute three, I was cursing up a blue-streak.

“All this for nothing? Dammit. Come on, Varus. Answer me!”

“McGill? Is this really Centurion McGill?”

Like magic, my tapper had begun talking. I could hear some drones in the forest by now, however, so I started running. My left foot was heavy-feeling and sore, but I forced it to thrash through the snow, wincing with every step.

“Dominus, this is Centurion McGill. I’m transmitting a list of the dead from my unit. I’m requesting immediate evac.”

“Stand by, McGill.”

I waited, and the wait wasn’t a long one. It came down to a race, really. An attack drone appeared, it must have been launched by the Clavers—damn, those guys seemed pissed.

The drone shot at me, and I returned fire. I took a round in the chest, and I fell back on the snow, panting. The drone was a smoking wreck—but so was I.

My breath became ragged, so I pressed the call button on my tapper repeatedly.

Finally, a familiar voice and face appeared. It was Graves. “Keep your shirt on, McGill—damn... you’re a mess.”

“Yessir, I am.”

“What’s the status of your command?”

“I don’t have one, sir. I transmitted the dead list—it’s pretty complete.”

Graves paged unhurriedly at his screen. “Ah yes, I see… a near total loss. All right, why are you bothering me now?”

“Sir, I’ve got important information from the enemy commanders. If you could find it in your heart to mount a rescue mission, I’d—”

Graves began chuckling. He’d always had an odd sense of humor, but this didn’t seem like the right moment for jokes—not even for him.

“Sir—?”

“All right, McGill. Your wish has been granted. Sit tight, your rescue is incoming now.”

Less than a minute later, a fighter screamed overhead. I knew by the way it was sending thundering echoes through the mountains that the pilot meant business.

Unsurprisingly, the attack ship unloaded a single small bomblet in my direction. With smart-weapon precision, it homed in and blew me to fragments.

It was a blessing, really.

-34-

I heard a rhythmic beeping. That was the first thing I became aware of. Why did Blue Deck people always have machines around that beeped all the time? It would drive me nuts to work in a place like that.

“What have we got?”

“He’s a nine… a pretty good grow.”

“Okay. Ship him out and recharge the tanks.”

That was it. No kind words, no gentle touches. I was unloaded and dumped onto a recovery chair, which felt like a wagon wheel with steel spokes up against my back.

When I could stand and see well enough to walk, I found a uniform and frowned as I looked around the room. There were lots of revives in the process of gathering their wits. The bio people were pumping them out left and right. I thought to myself it was a good thing we were buying these machines at a cut rate from Shadowlanders these days.

After getting dressed, I made the first mistake of my new lifetime: I looked at my tapper.

It was a livid red, which indicated messages from higher-ups. Some of them were from Tribune Foam himself.

“What’s the top squid want with me?” I asked nobody.

Stumbling out into the passageways, people dodged around me. There was a general sense of alarm aboard Dominus, but it wasn’t a panic. We were in a war zone, and things were happening, but I got the feeling the ship wasn’t involved in an outright emergency.

Before I could make it back to my module, my tapper began to buzz, and it answered itself. An ugly, cold-blooded face looked up at me. It was purple, pink and blue—nasty-looking.

“Centurion McGill,” Foam said, “you have not returned my communications.”

“Sorry, sir. I was busy dying and all that stuff.”

“My records show you’ve been breathing independently for seventeen minutes. Ten minutes is the standard allotted time for returning to functionality. Given your rank, I find your lack of responsiveness inexcusable.”

I rubbed my face and took a deep breath. Squids weren’t sweethearts. “Uh… I’ll do better next time, Tribune.”

“See that you do, or your rank may be in jeopardy. I’m on Gold Deck. Seek me out and attend me.”

My tapper went dark, and the squid was gone. Aliens weren’t really into saying things like “hi” or “bye.” They just kind of started talking and stopped when they felt like it. That was the squid way.

Regretting my support for Foam, limited though it had been, I made my way up to Gold Deck and grabbed a sandwich in the officers’ mess before I found him in a conference room near the bridge. I was still chewing when I approached him.

“Again, you force me to wait, McGill. I’m disgusted.”

“Uh… sorry sir, but I needed a bite to eat.”

The massive Cephalopod thrashed a little. “Nonsense. Revived humans can survive for up to eighteen hours without sustenance. I tire of excuses of this nature. Do all humans think about nothing but their creature comforts?”

“Well… that is a big motivator, I have to admit.”

“Disgusting…” Foam repeated. “Let us move on to the point of this meeting. You reported to Graves that you had spoken with Claver command. Further, you indicated you had critical information as a result of that discussion. You are hereby commanded to relay this information to me—immediately.”

I blinked twice at the hulking squid before I remembered what he was talking about. “Oh… oh yeah. Here’s the deal: the Clavers knew we were coming. They’ve been getting ready, and that’s why they threw that force field up in our faces.”

“I see. I’m not impressed with your report so far. Everything in it seems obvious.”

“Wait, wait, I’ve got more. He said he’d called up reinforcements, that mercenaries were coming to defend this base.”

Foam slid around a little to face me better, making a squishy sound on the deck as he did so. “Mercenaries? What is the nature of these rival forces?”

“Unknown, sir. But we do know that saurians have been fighting us as paid troops in various systems recently. Also… well, there’s the Tau. They’ve been hot on the trail of these coins, and they love nothing better than money.”

“The Tau… irrational beings who are known for their avarice. Your report is interesting, but insufficient to act upon.”

“Untrue, sir. We have to hurry up and breach this dome. If we don’t, we might get taken out by these reinforcements.”

Foam fumed. “And who is to take responsibility for this decision? You? Of course not. The indignity must be heaped upon hapless, benevolent Foam. You humans pretend to be thoughtful, united and obedient. Nothing could be further from the truth. Now that I’m in command, I find the rest of your top leadership to be extremely duplicitous.”

“Uh… yeah. You’ve probably got the right idea there.”

Foam studied me. “Interesting… I’ve begun to see things more clearly now. Human organizations have always been mysterious to my kind. Cephalopods are far more similar to one another. Humans are more varied in behavior and motivation.”

“What do you mean, exactly, Tribune?” I asked.

“Those of you at the bottom of your pyramids serve with vigor and trust. Those at the top are deceitful and self-serving.”

I nodded and pointed a finger at him. “Now you’re talking sense. It’s not always like that—but Hegemony runs that way. What are squid societies like? Cephalopods, I mean.”

“We are more uniform in nature. We work in unison for a common goal. Behavior is more predictable. We’re cooperative overall, but also always seeking advancement. A low-ranking member of my species is more likely to be a rival, but at the top, we are typically less devious than your people.”

“Huh… that’s interesting.”

“It’s also useless information. I must deal with the challenges at hand. Turov has ordered me to lead the assault on this planet personally. She says this will be a test of my skills as an officer.”

I almost spit up the drink I’d snagged on the way into Foam’s office. Galina was playing this poor dupe. As the junior officer, he shouldn’t be running the show. She was either trying to evade responsibility for a suspected failure, or she was setting him up for a fall.

Knowing her, I suspected it was a little of both. Foam made an easy target, as he didn’t really know what could be legitimately expected of him.

My big mouth opened to tell him about this—but I didn’t speak another word.

Why not? Because Foam was… well… kind of an asshole. I’d supported him and given him his chance, and he’d provided me with some armor. But that didn’t mean we were engaged or anything. How far was I obligated to go with helping out this pissy squid?

Sure, I wanted the legion to give him a fair shake, but it was already costing me with the other officers. Squids were unpleasant to work for, and there was naturally going to be friction between Foam and the humans he commanded. Even if I became his loyal henchman, he’d never fully trust me—and I could never fully trust him. Worse, every human in the legion would hate me.

Deciding Foam would have to fix this himself, I closed my big mouth with a snap. I wasn’t going to let him get blind-sided—but I wasn’t going to be his lackey, either.

“What are your orders, Tribune?” I asked in a neutral tone.

“Let us review the tactical situation.” So saying, Foam waved a thick tentacle over the holotank. The enemy stronghold appeared as a red circle surrounded by green blobs. Each of the blobs represented a cohort of troops.

I frowned at the display. We were surrounding the icy valley with seventeen cohorts of troops sent down to land on the planet. That’s why I was frowning.

“Uh… Tribune? What happened to the other three cohorts?”

Each legion consisted of ten cohorts, one legion made up of humans, the other of Blood Worlders. There should have been twenty cohorts on the planet.

“That is a sore point,” Foam admitted. “The enemy destroyed three of our lifters before they were able to land.”

I whistled long and low. That was a bad stack of damage for any officer to own up to. Right off, I knew that’s why Galina had put Foam in charge. It was probably her unsubtle plan to blame the squid for this sick loss of expensive equipment.

It also explained why Blue Deck was pouring out revives. Three cohorts was over three thousand troops—lots of dead men to bring back to life.

“I will interpret your strange warbling noise as a cry of misery and sympathy,” Foam said when I stopped whistling. “The situation is grim, but not unrecoverable. We will crush this enemy. We outnumber them ten to one—or more.”

“Yeah… but they’ve got the high ground, and the force-field… hmm… maybe you should back up your troops and use the bombards to take down the dome.”

“We considered this drastic action. It can’t be done that way. If one fusion warhead were to penetrate the dome and impact the base all the coins we seek would be destroyed.”

“Right, right… okay,” I said. “We’ll have to bombard the dome at a weak point with star-falls until it ruptures, then pour troops into the breach.”

“That is essentially our plan, and it brings us to why you’re here at this moment, Centurion McGill.”

“How’s that?”

“I’d like to place you in command of a cohort. A formation of Blood Worlder troops that will lead the assault on the enemy fortifications.”

My jaw sagged low, and it wasn’t even a trick. I was blown away. He was talking about making me into a primus. A full-fledged primus, not just a sub-primus loser, which was what they used to call the zoo legion officers.

I stood there, struck dumb and staring.

-35-

“Tribune Foam? Are you sure you want to do that? Make me a primus, I mean?”

“Yes. I reward successful and effective underlings. It is Cephalopod tradition to do so.”

“Uh… there’s just one problem with your plan, sir. You’re not in charge of the zoo legion anymore—uh, the support legion, that is. You’re in charge of the human outfit.”

The deck under Foam frothed and bubbled a little before he answered me. It had long been a contention of mine that he’d gotten his name from the disgusting liquids that formed in and around the base of his thick, slimy tentacles. Sure, every Cephalopod was grotesque and sticky down there—but they didn’t all make a lot of yellowy foam. This squid was the only one I’d seen who produced a mess that looked like bubbling suds on a regular basis.

Did that mean Foam was a scaredy-squid? I wasn’t sure. I suspected it meant he had a system imbalance, maybe like a guy who sweated all the time. I’d met a few men like that.

Whatever the cause… it was kind of nasty to watch.

“McGill, you have stated an obvious problem. I have a solution, but it will require some effort on your part.”

“Uh… how’s that, sir?”

“You must discuss this matter with Tribune Winslade. If he is agreeable, then the matter is closed, and your promotion is assured. If he is not, however, you will inject him with this isotope.”

He produced a metal vial with a red plastic cap on one end. He rolled it over the deck in my direction. Gingerly, I scooped it up and frowned a little at the yellowy stains that appeared on my fingers. Those foamy bubbles were kind of like iodine or something.

“Inject him? What for?”

“After you kill Winslade, you must insert the needle in this syringe directly under his tapper. The material inside will release itself. Performing this service will take care of our shared problem. You must trust me in this matter.”

I stared at the vial in my hand.

Now, I’m a dumb-fuck with bells on, just ask anybody. But despite my admitted lack of mental capacity, I found this entire idea of his to be rather… sketchy.

“Huh…” I said, thinking things over.

It was obvious that Foam wanted me to kill Winslade. I kind of suspected that the liquid in this vial would mess up his revive somehow—maybe it would even perm the target.

Why would Foam want to do that? The answer seemed obvious. If Winslade was gone, maybe he could take over both legions.

I could have told the new tribune it wouldn’t work out like that. Command would automatically transfer up the chain to Galina. She would appoint a new tribune, rather than handing over any more power to Foam.

But then, even as my big mouth opened to point out these obvious gaps in the squid’s evil plan—I had another thought.

What if I wasn’t the only sorry excuse for a human that Foam was manipulating? What if he had other agents—including one who could be stalking Galina right now with a drippy vial just like this one?

My mind sped up, and I began to form a plan of my own.

“Okay…” I said. “This all sounds real good, Tribune Foam, sir. I like the plan. More rank is worth any kind of assault on those above me. I’ll get right on it.”

Foam squirted out some more bubbles, and he looked kind of excited. “I was concerned that you lacked the proper level of ambition, but my worries were unfounded. You are a good minion, McGill. None are superior. Your service will not be forgotten.”

“Thank you, sir. May I be dismissed? I have some work to do.”

“Yes. Hurry and perform my will without hesitation.”

Marching out of the place, I paused in the passageways to have a thinking session. That was a rare thing for a man such as myself. I had options, now. Several of them.

I could run off and whine about the squid’s plot which was clearly already in motion. That would be the easiest move, and it might have garnered me some pats on the head if I thwarted an attack.

But it wouldn’t be super-impressive to the brass. They’d look into the matter and quickly discover that I’d single-handedly proven they were fools to promote a squid to the top of the Legion Varus food-chain.

They weren’t going to like that inescapable conclusion, true though it might be. If there was anything that top-level officers hated, it was looking stupid. Therefore, it would be best to take a more subtle approach.

So, instead of barging into Galina Turov’s office and demanding to see her, I checked my tapper quietly. She was alive and breathing on Gold Deck. That data was possible for me to look at partly because she was in my direct chain of command to the top. I couldn’t, however, use the system to locate her.

This would take some thinking. If Galina was okay, she either wasn’t targeted or hadn’t been hit yet. Logically though, she should be hit before Winslade. Otherwise, she would be alerted and hole-up on the defensive.

Heading to my module, I pulled on my black armor and then headed toward the elevators. When I reached Gold Deck, I didn’t go to Winslade’s office. Instead, I marched toward the very back of the place—where the important people lived.

Galina’s office was peaceful. Gary was there, filing his nails or some such thing. Mostly, he was playing with his tapper.

“What’s up, McGill?”

“Where’s the imperator?”

“In her office.”

I shook my head, and I pointed to the empty seats in the waiting area. “No, she isn’t. If she was, there would be a dozen losers here waiting to see her.”

Gary shrugged and looked down at his tapper. “Sorry. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

Two strides and one long-armed grab—that’s all it took to haul his skinny ass up and out of his chair.

“What the fuck, McGill?” he squawked. “I’ll have you up on charges—again.”

“You see this armor I’m wearing, Gary? This isn’t for fashion. I could kill fifty men in this if I wanted to. You will be the first.”

Gary was shocked and alarmed. He tried to work his tapper to call security, but I slapped his hand away.

“Now, where is she?”

“This is uncool, McGill. You don’t want to know where she is. I’m protecting you from the truth.”

I frowned. “Just tell me where.”

“Green Deck, asshole. She’s got a hot date—are you happy to learn that? Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I tossed him back into his chair and nodded to him. “Listen Gary, you’re right, I do owe you one. When this all goes to hell in a giant fireball, don’t tell anyone I was here. Things will go better for you if you never saw me today. Just play dumb about everything.”

“What? Get out of here, you crazy cracker!” Gary looked confused and upset, but I noticed he didn’t contact anyone as I walked out. He knew me well, and I think he was more than a little afraid of me.

Running hard and brushing aside anyone who got in my way, I raced down to Green Deck. Door Seven opened, and I marched inside.

Where would she be? I only had to think about it for a few moments, then I had it. The grotto.

Green Deck was riddled with secluded spots to hide in. This was because couples rarely got any privacy on long space voyages. Rather than having special consummation bunks, or dealing with embarrassments in the showers and restrooms, the shipbuilders had long ago decided to provide a pleasant space with numerous quiet places for intimacy.

Galina had her favorites. We’d shared them on many occasions. At the top of her list was a spot we called “the grotto.”

Marching toward the central lagoon, I followed the sandy shore at the bottom of a fake cliff. The grotto was tucked away behind one of the three fake waterfalls.

I don’t mind telling you I was becoming more irate with every step I took. It seemed wrong to me that Galina would have taken up with some new man just because she knew I’d been nailing a few other girls lately.

How had this new romance of hers evolved? It couldn’t have been by accident. Maybe the entire thing had been dreamed up by the pursuing male, whoever he was. Probably, no matter whose idea it was, Galina had been more receptive due to my recent activities.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say my feelings were hurt, but I did feel a pang. An honest pang.

Marching like an angry servant of the Almighty, I walked through a shower of water and spotted two figures. The bigger was on top of the smaller—but it wasn’t that simple.

He had one hand on her neck, and she was struggling to fight him off.

Many people have called me a violent man. In most cases, they’d be wrong. But when I saw someone murdering Galina, well sir, I found myself becoming steamed-up.

Six quick steps, and I loomed over them. The killer wasn’t slow on the uptake. He must have heard me coming, or maybe he’d seen Galina’s eyes dart over in my direction.

He spun around and thrust something at my guts—a knife?

No, it was a pistol. It went off with a hot flash and a boom. I knocked the gun aside, and it went off again. A moment later, I noticed a spot on the wall of the grotto glowing red and sending up wisps of vapor. I’d been laser-shot, and it was good thing I’d stopped by my module to put on my armor.

Roaring, I grabbed him and threw him off Galina. He bounced off the rock wall and crashed onto his face. He moved to try and get up, but I put a knee into his back and shoved his chin into the water.

In his hand, I found a syringe just like the one Foam had given me. The red cap was off, and the needle inside gleamed in the faint light.

This made me even angrier. This clown hadn’t been strangling Galina, and he hadn’t been romancing her either. He was trying to perm her.

Grabbing the syringe, I punched it into his arm. It went through the tapper, and it began to pulsate. The man moaned and struggled.

“McGill?” the man said, “what are you doing? Don’t you work for Foam too?”

The voice surprised me. The murderer was none other than Primus Fike.

-36-

I was so surprised I almost let him up—but no one is that dumb, not even me.

“Primus Fike,” I said, “you’re under arrest. Galina, call security—he’s bucking around under my leg so much it’s hard to use my tapper.”

“James?” Galina said, and her voice was raspy. He’d done a number on her windpipe. “How did you…? Ah, of course. You followed us and attacked out of jealousy. I understand completely.”

It sounded like she was happy with her version of events, so I let her run with it. To my surprise, however, she didn’t call for help on her tapper. Instead, she got up and retrieved Fike’s gun. Her sides heaved as she breathed hard. She coughed a few times and put the gun against Fike’s head.

“Uh…” I said.

“Primus Fike, I find you guilty of attempted assassination. What is in that syringe you were trying to inject me with?”

“I don’t know!” Fike said. “I don’t know anything, except that McGill is going to get my job, and I’m going to get Foam’s.”

“Interesting. Where is our lovely squid going in that case?”

“I suppose he plans to take your position—but look, this is all crazy. I see that now. I’ll submit to arrest. You can court martial me if you want to, I’ll plead guilty.”

“Guilty?” Galina purred. “How absurd. I can tell you’re completely innocent. That’s why you lured me in here and tried to murder me.”

“No! I—”

That was as far as old Fike got with his explanations and whining. Galina burned a big smoky hole right through his face and out the back of his head.

“James…” she said, turning to me next. “You can stop crushing his spine with that big knee of yours. He’s already dead.”

“Oh yeah.” I got up and looked befuddled. Two fingers scratched at my scalp while I stared down at Fike’s body.

Galina came close to me, and I absently slid an arm around her shoulders. She tugged at my shoulder, and I leaned over. She kissed my cheek hotly.

“You okay?” I asked.

“No, but I’ll live. What was in that needle?”

“I don’t rightly know.”

“I hope it perms Fike somehow.”

I smiled. “You might just get your wish. Foam gave me one, too. I was supposed to kill Winslade with it.”

Galina nodded. “I get it. With the other legion’s tribune gone, and no imperator at the top—Foam would be the sole leader of this expedition. Why didn’t you follow his orders?”

“Me? Because he’s a rebellious squid, that’s why.”

“But you kissed his slimy butt at the briefing.”

I shrugged again. “I gave him a chance, sure—but he’s failed. His species is too ornery to work well with ours. We don’t really understand each other.”

Galina smiled. “Foam made several miscalculations. We made him tribune, so he quickly became drunk with power. He thought that since you supported him you would do anything for him—but he doesn’t know you very well.”

“That’s true. Sometimes I don’t even know myself. What do we do now?”

“We’re going on a squid-hunt—or rather, you are.”

I looked at her quizzically.

“As your top commanding officer, I hereby order you to find Tribune Foam, inject him with his own slime and kill him!”

“Uh… shouldn’t we maybe call the MPs or something?”

Galina made a dismissive noise of disgust. “Are you kidding? The last thing the brass on Earth wants to admit is they made grievous error. They’ll try to blame my leadership, or rehabilitate him, or something. They can’t do any of that if he’s dead and gone. We’ll be doing everyone a favor.”

Blinking a few times, I nodded. The brass might see this as a helpful hand, even if they bitched and carried on at first. Promoting a crazy squid was one thing, taking the blame for the inevitable results was another.

I could envision Foam’s arrest. There would be a show-trial, a perp-walk, a streaming newsfeed virally spreading all over Earth—but the big brass didn’t want to see any of that. It would only point out how stupid they’d been to trust a crazy squid. No… I was fairly sure everyone involved would be seriously happy to announce Foam had been executed for bad behavior.

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked.

“I’m fine. Get going.”

With clear orders directly from the top, I had no choice. Galina had every right to order me to kill Foam, and I had no reason to disobey.

Marching out of the grotto, I took another quick walk along the shoreline.

A few people were out in the simulated night. The fake stars revealed just enough to see them as outlines.

“Centurion? Is everything okay? We heard gunfire.”

“Huh? Oh, that… that’s just the imperator and her new boyfriend doing some fireworks. They like to play rough. Listen here: if I were you, I’d stay out of the grotto tonight.”

The couple twisted up their faces in alarm and disgust. “Thanks for the tip.”

“No problem!”

I soon exited Green Deck and hit the lifts. By the time I arrived at Foam’s headquarters, he already knew he was in trouble. He’d summoned up a pack of human guards plus three squid primus-level officers. They were all standing around his office looking tough.

“McGill?” asked a man named Veteran Daniels. He was a prissy, wannabe hog I hadn’t seen since the Edge World campaign. We’d never been what I would call friends. “What are you doing here? Tribune Foam has announced a total blackout on visitors and external reporting.”

“Is that right? Well, Veteran, I’ve got some bad news for you: this squid is toast.”

Daniels reached for his gun, but it was way too late. I shot him down and moved on without even pausing to spit. I killed a few more veterans, then the rest ran off after they realized their return fire was bouncing off my armor.

The squid guards were inside Foam’s office. They came at me like a vengeful plate of calamari. All kinds of limbs, slime and even a few nasty gray beaks tore at me.

Fortunately, my armor couldn’t be pierced. On the negative side, my limbs could be grabbed and contorted in unnatural ways. My left arm was pulled out of the socket and hung limply against two broken ribs by the time I’d put all three of these vicious aliens to rest.

Foam had locked his office door, but a quick call to Turov allowed me to open it. She had the override codes for every lock on Dominus.

I dragged my left side into the dim-lit chamber beyond. Slapping the wall for light, I saw Foam standing at the observation chamber window.

“Space truly is a marvel,” Foam said. “Don’t you think so, McGill?”

“Huh? Why are we talking about space?”

Outside the window, stars glimmered. They were moving slowly astern, but the rate of progress was too gradual to see easily with the naked eye.

“We’re talking about the inevitable, McGill. Earth can’t continue to expand. She can’t continue to abuse other planets with impunity. She will be brought down.”

Yellow foam was running under his body now. It was all drippy and wet down there, like twenty elephants had all sneezed in one spot.

“Is that what this is about, Foam? Another half-hearted attempt at rebellion?”

“I trusted you. I took you at your word. Humans are the worst of beings. Totally contemptible. Dominus would have been mine if you’d kept your promises. But you betrayed me in favor of these weak humans.”

Seeing as I really didn’t much care about Foam’s concerns, I walked closer to him. He kept looking out the window and sweating his yellow foam.

“Why did you feign support for me?” the squid demanded, turning toward me.

I lifted my pistol between us, but he ignored it. He honestly wanted to know.

“I told you I like to give people a chance, but you blew yours.”

“I’m not ‘people’ McGill. I’m an oppressed servant of Earth.”

“And I’m an oppressed servant of the Empire. Everyone is someone else’s lackey—isn’t that what squids like you believe?”

He studied me for a moment. “Yes… and I think I understand your duplicity now. You don’t serve a master—you serve a concept. That is dull and dishonorable, but I think I understand it.”

“You’re wrong about it being dishonorable. There’s nothing wrong with fighting for your species at large instead of for yourself. At the core, you’re a squid, and I’m a human.”

“This is true, but if your people won’t stand against the Empire, we can never be allies. The Cephalopod Kingdom will never submit completely to any entity. You will have to completely destroy us in the end. If anyone tells you we can come to a permanent, peaceful arrangement—it is a lie.”

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll take that to heart. For the record, Foam, I understand and even admire you squids sometimes. That said, you’ve got to be put down.”

Without any more chit-chat, I gunned the renegade squid to death. It took a full magazine to finish him, and there were a whole lot of foaming juices on the deck by the time I was done.

Standing over the nasty-looking corpse, I had to wonder if old Foam was right. Were the squids impossible to tame? More importantly, at what point were we humans going to have to take a dangerous stand? Would Earth someday be forced to go to war with the Empire, come hell or high water?

I didn’t know the answers to these profound questions, and my thoughts were troubled.

-37-

There was an inquiry and a debriefing. I tuned out most of it. I had the mission commander on my side—and the other side was mostly permed.

Captain Merton complained about me gunning down his men. When Galina pointed out that his men had been part of a mutiny and asked him if he’d been in on it, he shut the hell up.

Winslade was upset too, but he didn’t say much. After all, I’d been ordered to assassinate him, and I hadn’t done so. That took me off his shit-list for now.

Probably the people who were the most upset came from Earth. They didn’t actually teleport out to Dominus, as our gateway posts were wrecked, but they did phone in with the deep-link to piss and moan a little. Using some tricky VR system and holograms, they looked like they were in the room.

Praetor Wurtenberger seemed to be the most distraught. “To think you Varus animals had to take this matter into your own hands—it’s outrageous! Why wasn’t there a tribunal, a court martial, formal charges and a move for demotion?”

“Because we were in an active power struggle, Praetor,” Galina said. “I felt we had to secure Dominus and this entire expeditionary force first. We could ask questions later.”

“That’s precisely my point, you murderous woman! You permed Foam without even consulting your superiors. Why not just kill him and revive him for a trial?”

Galina looked unconcerned. “We weren’t entirely sure what the substance in the syringe was. Imagine my surprise when I learned it wasn’t a vitamin shot, but rather a nano stream designed to destroy tappers and data records?”

“Savage and so hurtful. What will the other Cephalopod officers say when they hear of this gruesome butchery?”

Galina had finally had enough. She twisted up her face with annoyance. “Maybe they’ll say that they shouldn’t frig around with Earth so much—sir.”

Drusus’ hologram raised a ghostly hand as the conversation heated up. “I apologize for the imperator’s rudeness, Praetor Wurtenburger. I’m sure she’s simply upset by her ordeal. Remember, the insurgents tried to kill her as well.”

“How could I forget?” Wurtenburger answered. “That brings us to the hapless Fike. He was lured into some den of lust and permed as well—without due process!”

Galina stood up. Her eyes blazed. “Lured into a den of lust by whom?”

Wurtenburger and Drusus stood as well. The shimmering image of Wurtenburger’s gut bounced off the table as he reached his full height.

Drusus spoke first. “Officers. We’re all professionals. Let’s not let our emotions cloud our judgment.”

Wurtenburger laughed bitterly. “Too late! Emotional decisions have already created a stack of injustices here today.”

My fist was pressed up into my right cheek, demonstrating my utter boredom as these three kept complaining bitterly about one another.

In the end, Galina won out. The facts spoke for themselves, and the dead were keeping quiet about the rest of it.

From the point of view of the reviewing officers, there had been a mutiny, and she’d put it down. That much was clear. The rest of the story and various other shenanigans had all been covered up by the permanent death of several key witnesses.

At last, I was allowed out of the meeting chamber. I went down to my module, where I was cheered and back-clapped by everyone for getting rid of Foam. Pretty much no one in the legion had wanted to be ordered around by an alien.

After cleaning my sticky armor and carefully stowing it under my bunk, I flopped down for a nap. It had been a long day, and my broken ribs and repositioned arm were bugging me. At least the Blue Deck people hadn’t dared to suggest a recycle. I’d worn my armor down to see them, so they’d done some real work to patch me up. They’d all heard I could be dangerous while wearing that suit.

Along about midnight, a tapping came at my door. I groaned and ignored it. My left side was aching.

The door suddenly opened. That surprised me. Only janitors, a few lady-friends and the top brass could bypass my lock—at least, that’s the way it was supposed to work.

Alerted, I forced myself to roll out of bed and come up ready to fight. Could it be some of Foam’s boys, hot for revenge? We still had squids aboard. They were everywhere in Winslade’s zoo legion, and I didn’t trust any of them.

But instead of a massive squid sliding through my doorway, a rather slim, shapely woman entered.

My big arms lowered themselves. My fighting stance shifted into a normal standing position.

“Galina?”

She walked in quietly, not saying a word. She came close, and we looked each other over in the dim night-setting light of my cabin.

“James. Let’s take a walk, shall we?”

I thought it over for a few seconds. After all, she’d gone and planned out a hot date with Fike. Now, here she was trying to make amends.

Sucking in a big breath and wincing, I rolled my left shoulder. My teeth came out and clenched.

“You’re hurt?”

“Yeah, sure. I wrestled a pack of squids and fought a murderous traitor today, you know.”

Concerned, she had a look at my wounds. There were nano-sutures and welts everywhere.

“Here, let me apply some salve.”

“Galina, I—”

“Come on. It’s the least I can do.”

I sat on my bunk and let her rub some pain relievers into my arm and over my ribs. She knew how to do it right, without putting pressure on the sorest points. After many decades all of us had learned how to apply medications like experts. This skill came with the territory for any legionnaire.

After a while, all this rubbing and closeness got to my brain. I reached up with my good arm and pulled her onto my lap. She didn’t resist at all.

“Why’d you take Fike to the grotto?”

“Why’d you screw that Wendy-person every chance you got until I sent her back to Earth?”

We looked at one another, and I sighed. There was no point to arguing about these situations. Our lives were too long and too chaotic for recriminations.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s forget about all that.”

“Good idea.”

She was still sitting on my lap, so one thing quickly led to another. My ribs ground together at times, but it was a pain-and-pleasure kind of thing. Overall, it was worth it.

-38-

They say there’s no rest for the wicked, and as a soldier of Earth, I can attest to this simple truth. The very next day I was ordered to deploy back on Ice World. Every legionnaire who was alive at the time went with me.

The enemy’s defenses were impressive when seen from space. The Clavers not only had a tight ring of mountain peaks around their valley for defense, they’d also built high walls to block the three passes that allowed entrance on foot into their lair. Worse, they’d put up that damned dome-like forcefield that covered the whole valley, the ring of mountains, and the three walls blocking the paths through.

The dome wasn’t solid, mind you, but it was enough to stop fast-moving things we threw at it, like missiles and fighters. About the only we could do was land troops outside and march them in through the forcefield.

Just getting down to the ground was tricky as well. The Clavers were cheating. They turned off the dome like a light switch whenever they felt like it, allowing their own missiles and antiair fire to exit the field.

Because of the heavy antiair fire coming up from the Claver base, we didn’t dare use lifters or drop-pods. But fortunately, we didn’t have to today. Someone had finally sent teleportation crews all the way back to Earth to get new gateway posts. The cohorts surrounding the mountainous Claver stronghold had set these up to allow easy movement from Dominus to the ground.

Stepping between a pair of tangerine-colored glowing posts, I was zapped out of existence and back into it again at another location.

I found myself standing inside a tent made of thermal sheets. Snow whipped into the shelter our troops had hastily built to enclose this way station.

The moment I stepped outside the shelter I was struck by a bitter wind. Trudging unhappily in slush ice, I headed for the forward trenches. 3rd Cohort’s encampment was cold. The wind blew down from the sharp peaks to the north. Every time I did so much as glance up toward those mountains, a fresh blast of ice particles hit me in the face. Soon, my eyelashes were frosted white.

The walk was long enough and unpleasant enough to give me a chance to think about recent events. Ever since I’d talked with Foam and permed him, I’d had trouble with random thoughts that kept interrupting my aching brain. Normally, I found my appropriate path through life was easy to discern. Right and wrong usually seemed clean and clear—but not lately.

Here I was, preparing to assault a remote Claver outpost in order to take their hard-won money. Was that the mission of a good guy? I didn’t feel like it was.

Don’t take me wrong, I wasn’t born yesterday. I knew the Clavers were a dirty gang of sneaky merchants. They’d begged, borrowed and stolen their fortune.

But was I any better? Here I was, serving as the very hand of evil. Legion Varus intended to plunder the wealth of these merchants and hand it over to the Empire. In comparison, the rebellious Foam had been a creature of honor—he’d even said as much before I’d butchered him.

I think that’s what had been bothering me most—the fact that Foam hadn’t put up a fight in the end. He’d just stood there and let me kill him. He watched me do it, his numerous eyes staring in an accusatory fashion.

When I reached my unit’s frosty trench at last, I gave my head a shake and opened my visor fully.

The freezing air helped clear my brain. I reminded myself harshly that I had a unit to command and a battle to win.

“Okay, 3rd Unit,” I shouted to a gathering of troops. They were huddled in the trench which was filled with frozen piss-stains. Ice crystals clung to everyone like we’d been doused in sugar. “We’re marching today. Give me a sitrep.”

Dutifully, my troops reeled off their names. The roster was full. Then they reported their status one at a time—but I didn’t listen.

My eyes were on those distant, dark peaks again. They were like the teeth of a great dead dragon, curved and sharp. They cut into the storm clouds as they scudded by.

Once everyone was counted, geared and inspected, we did what soldiers always spent most of their lives doing: we waited.

The trench was a miserable place. The men made the best of it, coughing, smoking stims, playing games on linked tappers, and studying reports from the field. But mostly, we waited in sullen silence.

Scouting units probed the skirts of the mountains. They’d found three passes, none of which were inviting. Each was walled off and protected by the shimmering dome of force the Clavers had set up.

“Here’s the situation,” Adjunct Leeson said, squatting at my side with my other two officers. “The brass knows the truth—but they haven’t yet conceded that truth.”

“Spit it out, Leeson,” Harris demanded. “You always turn these things into some kind of a dramatic show.”

Leeson gave him a sour glance and went right back to speeching. “In all three passes, the enemy dome comes down right in front of a wall. That’s true for the southern pass too, the one we’re sitting in front of. Normally, a wall wouldn’t mean shit to Legion Varus—but with that dome in front of it… we’re screwed.”

“How so?” Barton asked.

“Because the dome is too close to the wall. The two barriers are only about a hundred meters apart. You see that brigade of star-falls to the rear of the cohort? They’re all useless. They’re not powerful enough to blow down the force dome, and we can’t use them on the walls because the dome is too close.”

Harris moved his knees restlessly. “So what? We’ll take them inside the dome—we’ll drag them if we have to—and we’ll blow those walls down point-blank.”

Leeson frowned. He was the best of us with artillery, he always had been. I trusted his judgment in these matters more than I did your average primus.

Leeson shook his head. “The Clavers are too smart for that. They’ll be ready for that move. They’ll hit us hard the second we walk through the force field and try to deploy our artillery.”

“What then?” Harris asked. “What are they going to order us to do?”

Leeson shrugged, but Barton spoke up. “They’ll probably send us in waves of infantry with explosives. Sappers will rush in to destroy the physical wall, or at least damage it.”

Harris whistled. “That’s not good… The Claver gunners on those walls will have a field day, gunning us down as we charge them. Bodies will stack up and choke the pass.”

Listening to the three of them hypothesize, I suspected they were predicting the future accurately. We weren’t like typical grunts of days gone by—we’d seen a lot.

Still, there was nothing to do other than squat in our trenches and wait. No one higher up in the food-chain was interested in our opinions or our discomfort.

* * *

Along about forty grim hours later, the sun broke through. That seemed like a frigging miracle all by itself.

“I don’t believe it!” Leeson said, stomping his boots in the snow drifts.

Harris appeared next. “I thought that storm would never break. How do these damned trees even stay alive?”

“Tell the troops to gather their gear,” I ordered them. “I just got a thirty-minute warning from Graves—we’re moving out.”

It was go-time. There was a lot of hubbub after that, with troops packing up and shaking off their dicks.

The Clavers seemed to know we were stirring. They must have figured we’d wait around until the weather broke. Accordingly, they only gave us twenty of our thirty allotted minutes to prepare.

Then, with only a few seconds warning from the sirens, shells began to fall on our forward positions. The enemy had cut the force dome power for a split-second, just long enough to let a barrage slip through.

There wasn’t much we could do other than throw ourselves prone in our frozen holes. We put our gauntlets on top of our helmets, and the explosives began to fall among us.

In the first few minutes, a thousand men died on our front alone. I didn’t know how the groups stationed at the other two passes fared—and to be honest, I didn’t much care.

“Go, go, go!” I roared when there was a break in the shelling.

We were up and running. Equipment humped and bumped on our backs and legs. The order to advance had come ten minutes early, and we weren’t entirely ready to march yet.

That was just too damned bad. The Clavers weren’t waiting, and they had our trenches zeroed. 3rd Unit had escaped annihilation in the first barrage, but only the good Lord knew where the next shower of warheads would land.

Suddenly, our trenches seemed like death-traps. We were anxious to put them behind us and press ahead. We crossed a full kilometer of deep snows and forests. It was slow going, but other men were leading us, and they’d broken open the crusty white fields ahead.

“Those tracks are big, and deep,” Harris pointed out. “We’re following heavy troopers. A unit of Winslade’s finest if I had to guess.”

I agreed with him, but I saved my breath for shouting orders and moving my long legs. A dozen more steps, ducking under trees and plunging into fresh snowbanks—it was a hard slog.

I caught glimpses of the force dome between the trees. It was a ghostly shimmer in a V-shaped pattern a few kilometers away.

“That must be the pass. Keep up the pace, men.”

We pressed ahead another hundred steps—then a hundred more.

Shouting began in the front ranks. These were Barton’s lights. They were having a relatively easy time of it, being burdened by about twenty kilos less gear each—but something had caught their attention.

“What have you got, Barton?” I demanded.

“Sir, the enemy dome just flickered!”

I took a full second to process that warning. Almost too late, I shouted a new order. “Everyone, hit the deck! Take cover!”

We were all down and crawling like beetles looking for a rock to hide under. Some of us found cover, and some of us didn’t.

Crack!

Overhead, one of those large, freaky-looking pines was struck. The trunk exploded, and the branches came showering down. Men were hit with huge splinters like spears. Then more shells landed and popped, and the shrapnel began to rain with them.

Silver rain. That’s what it was like. We were sprayed by thousands of shaped metal darts. Men howled and crawled, looking for any escape. They painted the white snows red with their blood.

Our side answered this strike, sending a stream of bright white spheres skyward. They began to rise in a steady drumbeat. These were star-fall salvos, but they weren’t fired in a single punishing barrage as usual. Instead, they were flying in a staggered pattern, one at a time.

“I get it,” Leeson said from a few meters away to my left. “That’s clever. Graves might have come up with that.”

“With what, Leeson?” Harris demanded angrily. He didn’t like getting shelled. It always put him in a sour mood. I couldn’t say that I blamed him.

“I’m saying that we’re firing a steady stream of star-falls now. The next time the enemy drops their dome to shell us, they’ll take a round or two in the teeth in return.”

That made sense. We couldn’t break their dome with our star-falls, but if they turned off their dome—even for a few seconds to shell us—we could slip in a few licks of our own. It was a good tactic.

Soon the order came from on-high for me to execute my wounded troops and get my ass moving again. I did as I was instructed. Kivi died, as did Veteran Moller. At least I didn’t have to shoot any of these women, they’d been killed outright in the shelling.

In war, I told myself, a man had to take the good with the bad.

At last we reached the top of the rise and faced the great pass. The dome shimmered, humming with iridescent power. Half my troops had perished, and it was up to us survivors to make the Clavers pay.

We plunged into the force-dome. Like most force fields, it wasn’t as solid as it looked. It repelled rapidly moving objects and plasmas. A soldier could pass through it, however, by applying steady pressure and ignoring the electric tickle it inflicted on all who entered.

When we stepped through into the open again, I saw a thousand dead troops. They choked the mountain pass in front of those looming puff-crete walls, just like Leeson had predicted.

Most of the dead were Blood Worlders, and I was sad to see it. The legions no longer bothered to revive any of their kind. Every heavy trooper who died in that pass counted as a man permed.

Up on top of that steep wall, I caught a glimpse of the enemy. They were numerous, and they were gleeful.

Hundreds of Claver-Threes gunned hard for us, competing with each other to kill every human and near-human that managed to march this far. Streams of accelerated bullets—depleted uranium, if I had to guess—showered our advancing lines, which were already ragged from the shelling and a dozen other hazards we’d met on the way uphill.

Exhausted from wading through snow, enduring cold and grievous injuries, we staggered over our own stacked dead until one of those happy gunners managed to focus a fire hose of metal on our bodies long enough to bring us down.

Realizing the assault was a hopeless affair, I reversed my progress and exited the force-dome again. Once I was safely outside, I summoned Cooper to my side.

“What can I do for you, Centurion? Besides die gloriously, that is.”

I grabbed him. He dodged—but wasn’t quick enough. Not this time.

“I want you to take my armor back down to camp.”

“What?”

I began shedding my armor. Soon, I stood in a spacer’s suit, shivering.

“Uh… what’s going on, sir?” Cooper asked.

Clamping a big hand on his shoulder, I pointed up toward the dome and the walls inside it. The enemy defense were daunting and layered. Seen from up close, I felt like a medieval foot soldier facing a moat and a castle wall.

“Cooper, do you think I’m going to make it through that dome, then that valley of death beyond, then somehow manage to climb that curved puff-crete wall inside there?”

“Fuck no. It looks like the bottom of the biggest dam on Earth.”

“Right. Well, when I join the stacks of bodies trying to win through, I don’t want to lose my armor, see?”

Cooper lit up. “Oh… I get it. You want me to run this gear back to safety for you… Thanks for thinking of me for this special duty, sir.”

I knew his thanks were sincere. I’d given him half a chance to live to see tomorrow, and he’d probably given up all hope by this time.

“You’re welcome, Coop. Take care of my baby.” Handing him the armor, I saw him go invisible and slink away.

Sucking in a deep breath that was so cold it stung my throat, I raised up my morph-rifle and aimed it ahead. When the next ragged unit of survivors showed up, I marched with them into the kill zone the Clavers had set up for us.

To make a long story short, I was gunned down in less than a minute.

-39-

The brave soldiers of Legion Varus had lost our first big battle on Ice World. I was revived promptly and returned to my piss-stained hole in the snow.

“Centurion?” Harris called to me when I got there.

“What is it, Harris?”

“That had to be the worst cluster-fuck of my long lifetime.”

I snorted and spat on the ice. “Nonsense. Do you remember charging into the crystalline mountains on Glass World? With all those suicidal drones running at us?”

“Uh… yeah. That was pretty bad. But the cold, here… I don’t like cold.”

Harris didn’t like hot climates, either. I knew for a fact he didn’t like hard fighting, or discomfort of any kind. In short, he was a big-mouthed complainer, and he always had been.

“This is bullshit,” he said a few minutes later. “Are they seriously going to order us to charge that fortress again? Why not just drop an A-bomb on the dome, or better yet slip one under it?”

“You know they can’t do that. They’d blow up all the money.”

“Fuck the money. It’s not like they’re going to give us any of it even if we do win through.”

This statement sparked a fresh round of pointless argument. When the discussion grew heated, I stood up and glowered down at my troops.

“Shut up. All of you—shut up.”

They quieted but with a lot of surly glances up toward the mountains. The shelling from that direction had ceased for now—but we knew they were going to hit us hard if we dared to put a toe inside their precious domes.

Two days later, a fateful call came in on my tapper. I answered with a squinty stare.

“Holy… is that you, James?”

It was Galina Turov herself. She was looking fine with her nails done, her lip-gloss applied in an impeccable fashion, and her hair teased up just right.

My face, on the other hand, looked like a horror show.

“Hi, Imperator. What can I do for you?”

“You look like a frozen snowman, James. Is it really that cold down there?”

“Cold? Nah… I like fresh breezes and crisp winter scents. I wouldn’t trade this planet for a boatload of tropical beaches.”

She stared at me, then nodded while wincing a little. I guess I was kind of scary to look at. I had a lot of beard growing by now, and it was as white as frosting when I opened my helmet for any length of time.

“Okay… well, you’ll be glad we’ve come up with a plan to break this siege.”

“A plan? That would be nice.”

“Yes—and you had a lot to do with our final decisions.”

Alarm bells went off inside my shivering mind. When the brass sat up in space mentioning your name—well sir, it was rarely a good thing in the end for the grunt in the dirt.

“Your initial attack was very impressive. We’re still looking it over. If we’d pressed that attack, perhaps with double the number of troops—well, it doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. The question is: how can we repeat your success?”

“Uh… I don’t know. We’ve got this big dome-thing in the way, see?” I spun my tapper around and aimed it toward the peaks. It wasn’t a perfectly clear day, but it was clear enough to see the mountains and the shimmering barrier between them.

“Yes, but we have an idea. Come up to meet with us.”

“Uh… now?”

“Immediately. Turov out.”

My tiny screen went dead. My eyes stared at it for a few seconds, then I looked at my troops. They had hopeful, hungry eyes.

“I’ve been summoned up to Dominus,” I told them.

Leeson slapped his knee and guffawed. Harris snarled. They both had the same idea, but with radically different reactions.

“You’re going up for a booty-call now?” Harris demanded. “While we sit here in the ice and filth?”

“You lucky fucker,” Leeson said. “I wish I was as tall as one of these pines with a dick longer than a water-snake.”

Harris looked at him in disgust. “It wouldn’t matter in your case, ‘cause you’re bone-ugly.”

I stood up. It was clear to me that what limited decorum and discipline my legion was capable of was breaking down.

“I’m going up,” I told them. “And you fools better hope I can talk some sense into the brass—unless you want to sit here and besiege these mountains until Christmas.”

Leeson went off into a cackling gale, while Harris glared at everyone. Only Erin Barton came close and eyed me thoughtfully.

“You think your personal relationship with Turov can get us out of here, sir?”

“Maybe. I’ll give it a shot. No promises.”

She nodded. “I hope you can pull it off. I don’t know if we can spend another week sitting out here without going mad.”

Troubled, I left my unit and went to the tents with the gateway posts humming inside. Without a thought, I stepped through.

A moment later, I was on the lower decks of Dominus again. I made my way up to Gold Deck and sought out my betters.

Marching into the place, I found that everyone who met me quickly stepped out of the way.

I knew right-off what was wrong: I had purple splotches on my face, including the tip of my nose. I’d been frostbitten and then some. I must have looked appalling.

But I didn’t care about my haunting appearance. If the people up here hiding aboard a nice, warm starship didn’t like the way a grunt from the trenches looked, well sir, they could avert their eyes.

Turov and Graves waited for me in a conference room. I walked in and sat down. I let my face drip as the frost melted, forming a discolored puddle on the computer table between us.

“Would you like a refreshment, James?” Galina asked.

I looked at her, and she gave me that kind of wincing, squinting look again. She was trying to play it cool, but I knew my face was bothering her.

“Always, Imperator.”

She poured me a hot brandy, and I tossed it down. I had to get the second one myself.

Graves stared at me while I did this. “Centurion, we’ve got a special duty for you.”

“Hot damn! What is it, sir?”

“You’re going to repeat your initial teleport attack.”

I blinked a few times. “Uh… how is that going to work, sir? The enemy does flicker that dome now and then, for a second or so, when they fire artillery at us. But that’s not enough time to pinpoint a landing spot and cycle up the teleport—”

I stopped, because Graves had his hand up in my direction.

“We’re not going to time their dome and enter it that way. Instead, we’ll launch a diversionary attack on the other two flanks of the mountain fortress. Then your team will penetrate the dome when the enemy is distracted.”

Squinting, I swilled down my third brandy. It hit my gut like a hot explosion—but it felt good a moment later.

“Okay… so we walk in sneaky-like—and then we get pasted by a million rounds from the top of the walls?”

“No. You’ll have a small team, not a full unit. You’ll be wearing stealth gear—and teleport harnesses. Once inside the dome on the least interesting front, you’ll teleport to the base of the wall, plant a charge, and retreat.”

“Oh… and this charge will be big enough to take down the wall?”

“That’s our hope, James,” Galina said.

I looked from one of them to the other. “Why me? Why not get a group of ghosts to do this particular bit of dying?”

Galina looked at Graves, and she nodded.

“Because we think you can pull it off,” Graves told me. “We thought about sending a pack of ghosts—men like Cooper, for example, but we weren’t sure he’d blow himself up. Most ghost specialists are kind of selfish that way.”

“Hmm…” I said, thinking it over. “I guess I’ll do it. At least my face will be fixed when I’m revived.”

“Good. Volunteering isn’t necessary, but it’s appreciated. Report to Gray Deck in thirty minutes.”

That was it. Graves stood up, saluted, and left. I lingered behind with Galina. I gave her a hopeful grin.

“I’ve been kind of lonely down there in the trenches,” I said.

She fluttered her eyes while squinting and showed me her teeth. She looked grossed-out. “I don’t know, James. I appreciate you and all that, but maybe you should come back after you’ve been killed and revived. A fresh body—you could use that right now.”

“Aw, come on. Let’s take a shower, and I’ll clean right up. You’ve got a fresh can of nu-skin in your quarters, don’t you? That’ll cover up just about anything.”

She sighed, but after a bit more wheedling, she relented. We showered, sprayed my frostbitten face with nu-skin, and made love. She insisted on being turned the other way around—I suspected so she couldn’t see my injuries—but I didn’t mind that a bit.

-40-

Reporting to Gray Deck seventeen minutes late, I whistled a happy tune. I hadn’t felt this good in a long while.

A team formed around me. They weren’t my own people—not this time. They weren’t even all humans. The guy I found the most interesting of the lot was a scupper named Yellow-Eye.

“Hey!” I said, spotting him right off. “You’re a scupper from Storm World, aren’t you?”

The tall, salamander-like fellow turned around toward me. He looked like one of those colorful frogs from the Amazon jungle, except he stood up on his hind legs. His soft, wet skin was green, and he had a single bright yellow splotch over his left eye, just like his name suggested.

“I am from M244-H, yes. You are First-man today?”

“That’s right. I’m your First-man for this mission. Where are all the others?”

I heard a giggle. A woman appeared off to my right. She had been stealthed, and she’d snatched away her bag-like stealth suit. The suits weren’t tight-fitting, as they didn’t work quite as well when they folded-up and creased.

Several others appeared a moment later. All in all, there were five of them, including the scupper.

“I didn’t even know any of your kind had joined our legions,” I told Yellow-Eye.

“I am in the Varus support legion. My tribune is known as Winslade.”

“Ah, right. That makes sense. Alien troops need an alien scout, I guess.”

We all talked a bit, and I was given a larger stealth-suit to pull over my body. I checked to make sure it worked, then we moved on to our weapons and teleport harnesses.

After picking through our gear, I found it was pretty thin. “No grenades? Nothing better than snap-rifles?”

One of the tech jockeys addressed my concerns. She was a prissy type with a bigger gut than your typical legionnaire. That was because she was Fleet. Her kind didn’t die all the time and go on an instant-diet called a revival. Besides that, tech jockeys tended to be assigned to work that was only a short stroll from the mess hall.

“That’s right, Centurion. You’re being issued an explosive much more powerful than a grenade.”

Here, she hefted a watermelon-sized device with a wicked look to it.

“Is this antimatter?” I asked. “Isn’t that overkill for blowing down a wall?”

“What? No, no, it’s not an A-bomb. It’s a shaped-plasma charge. Kind of like a warhead for a star-fall but detached from the delivery system. You and your team are going to deliver it.”

I lifted the item gingerly. Everyone around me backed up a step—like that was going to do them any good if it went off.

“Seems kind of heavy.”

The tech grinned. “That’s right, and ghosts are all skinny-armed guys. Can you guess who’s going to carry the warhead?”

My face went slack for a second or two—then I got it. “Oh… is that why I was chosen for this novel form of suicide?”

She shrugged. “Maybe… I don’t know. We requested some muscle, and they sent you. You’re welcome.”

She sauntered off, and I worked to find a comfortable way to carry the bomb. It didn’t seem possible, so I soon gave up. One arm was going to have to be wrapped around it, and that arm was going to become sore after a while—the damned thing was heavy.

The rest of the ghosts stood around looking lost. Usually, their job was to sneak into places and give recon reports to the brass. They weren’t usually used as sappers. As a result, all their faces were kind of glum.

All of them that is, except for the scupper. Yellow-Eye seemed excited by the whole thing.

“First-man, I’ve got an idea,” he told me.

“What’s that?”

“Perhaps I can be the one to carry the bomb.”

My eyes grew squinty. “Why would you want to do that?”

“It would be a novel experience for me.”

“Uh… okay. Tell you what, if you can pick this thing up with both hands, I’ll let you do it.”

Working hard to make the bomb look as light as possible, I held it out to him with both my arms. They were straining, let me tell you, but I grinned and looked as cool as a cucumber.

Yellow-Eye took the bait. He reached out his skinny wet hands and gripped both sides of the warhead. When I let go of it—well sir, it went down like a bomb is supposed to.

Fortunately, I’d anticipated this possibility. I’d propped up a boot under it, preventing it from crushing one of the fool’s webbed feet. Even so, it thumped on the deck and rolled away with an ominous sound as the salamander sadly looked on.

“What the hell?”  asked a gruff voice.

Graves marched up to us as I picked the warhead back up off the floor.

“What’s wrong with you, McGill? Are you trying to blow up the ship?”

“Aw now, it’s not even activated yet, sir.”

Graves inspected the bomb and me with equal disgust. “Just stop messing around. The diversionary attacks are already underway down on the planet surface. You’re on-deck.”

We hustled to our places and buckled everything into place. Nine long minutes passed, during which the fighting on Ice World went from sporadic to hardcore.

“Kind of cool huh?” I asked Yellow-Eye. “All those men are fighting and dying down there, but it’s our mission that really matters.”

“I don’t know, First-man. I think that they matter much more than we do.”

“Uh… what do you mean?”

He shrugged. “I expect today to end with a perming-event for this man. That’s why I wanted to carry the weapon. It would bring me pride in my final moments.”

My face fell. I knew he could be right.

Sure, we all knew this mission was probably a suicide-run. That didn’t bother me much, but the implications were entirely different for Yellow-Eye. Legion Varus didn’t often revive non-humans, and he knew it.

“Huh…” I said. “I’ll see if I can do something about that when we get back.”

Yellow-Eye stared at me, and it looked like he was going to say something—but he didn’t have time. All of a sudden, the world began to rhythmically flash in blue-white colors.

I knew what that meant. We were porting out. The mission launch order must have been given by someone—probably Graves.

We appeared in an outcropping of windswept stones. We were uphill from the Valley of Death, a region still choked with so many frozen bodies it was going to be hard to walk.

Quickly, we pulled our stealth suits into place and vanished. That was kind of disorienting right there.

The other ghosts were well-trained. They’d spent hundreds of hours invisible to their peers. They were used to navigating over terrain when they couldn’t see their feet or their hands—but me? I almost fell on my face after my first dozen steps.

My hand shot out and clutched a sharp rock. It didn’t go through my thin glove, but it for sure left some gouges in my skin under there. I pushed myself back to my feet with a grunt and tucked that bomb up against my belly. I was going to have to take every step carefully.

Footprints helped me. The other ghosts were moving ahead, taking the lead. They were more skilled and unburdened. Fortunately, they left prints behind, and I followed them.

There was a scuffle in the gray light ahead. I squinted and struggled in the snow. A dozen more steps brought me to a fallen figure.

A Claver-Three was face down in the snow. His throat had been cut by more than one combat knife. It didn’t seem fair, but that was war for you.

The ghosts had ringed the Claver’s corpse with footprints. They’d swarmed him and butchered him. Struggling with my heavy burden, I followed the prints downslope toward the shimmering dome.

A hundred steps farther on, I reached the edge of the force-field. I stepped into it, and I felt an odd pressure against every hair on my body. It was a weird sensation, like pushing through the thickest soap-bubble in the universe. The bubble went on and on until I broke through at last.

There I found another dead Claver. Dammit, the ghosts were going crazy. If they killed too many scouts, the enemy might suspect something was up. I thought about breaking radio-silence and chewing them out, but that was against orders—what’s more, it would have been shit-off stupid.

There was nothing to do other than follow the footprints a few more steps. That’s when I found something different: another bloody corpse in the snow.

This dead man was different than the others. He was taller, thinner, and all I saw was a flappy foot. The rest of him was under a stealth suit.

I tugged at the bottom hem of the suit—then I was certain. It was Yellow-Eye. He’d been shot clean through.

-41-

Two paces onward, I found another of my ghosts. It was that giggly woman from the 6th—and she was as dead as the salamander.

Looking around wildly, I felt my heart speed up, and my breath turned into a puffing bellows. In that simple moment, a shock of clear thought hit me—they could see us. They were killing us somehow.

I froze. Was it our footprints? Was it some kind of anti-stealth tech? Maybe a sensor we didn’t have?

Forcing myself to slowly, calmly gaze this way and that, I saw something to my right. It was only a stone’s throw away.

Squinting, I realized what I was looking at. A puff of white steam, mysteriously blowing in the frigid air—like an invisible man breathing.

A shot rang out. It was sniper-fire—the sound was unmistakable. The spot lurched where the puffing breath had been, and blood shot out over the snow.

My first instinct was to rush toward the fallen man, but I stopped myself. I couldn’t help him.

“McGill,” I heard him croak out. “They can see our breath. Stop breathing.”

My lungs stopped moving. The stricken man was crawling toward me. Another shot rang out, and more blood spurted. I couldn’t see the body, but he didn’t talk anymore. I figured he had to be a goner.

I sucked in a bit of frosty air, but I didn’t let any out. My eyes rose high, and I scanned the vast wall ahead of us. The sniper could be anywhere. He might have been on the top of the wall, or down here in the field of dead with us.

It hardly mattered. He had us zeroed. He was scanning the field, looking for more oddly appearing footprints, or white puffing breath. He was good, and he was patient. He would find me eventually.

My lungs began to burn as I tried to think. Three of my men were dead, and I couldn’t hear or see any survivors. There might not be any. Coming to a fateful decision, I reached into my stealth suit and touched a button. It was time to teleport again.

That hadn’t been the plan. When we’d discussed this op and been briefed, we’d been told to stay together—to function as a team. We were to penetrate the dome, make sure we were at least fifty meters from the field, then teleport again to get closer to the wall. The force-field might disrupt the teleportation effect otherwise.

Screw that. The thought was loud and clear inside my skull. Waiting around to be shot down like a dog was never part of my itinerary. I was either going to escape—or this was it.

The teleportation effect began to glimmer, and I relaxed a fraction. I was going to make it. There should be time—

Crack!

Another shot rang out.

Crack! Crack!

Two more shots—possibly several more. It was hard to—

Crack!

Something struck me then. It hit me like a hammer in the thigh. I could feel it, burning and biting—then I was gone. I rejoined reality a split-second later. I was in a different place, but it was no less dark, frozen and alien.

Reaching out a hand, I steadied myself. The bomb slipped from my other hand, and I sagged down against a tall, slick surface.

Looking around I saw where I was. The looming hulk of the wall shot straight up until it merged with the frosty clouds.

Gathering my wits, I staunched the blood flowing down my leg. It was freezing quickly, but not quickly enough. I used nu-skin and a stim—then a second stim.

A strange smile and a floaty feeling overcame my face. That was better.

Taking the bomb, I moved it to the base of the great wall, and I considered setting it off right then—honest, I did.

But I knew that doing so might perm me, and it would certainly perm Yellow-Eye—not to mention the rest of my brave team of commandos I’d led into this nightmare.

What could I do?

My eyes and my slightly deranged mind scanned my environment. I was on the inside of the wall, on the side with stairways and doors placed here and there. I was supposed to place the bomb here and set it off.

Part of me wanted to do just that. To get this all over and done with. My leg was hurting, and I wasn’t having any fun.

Sucking in a deep breath, I let it out again—then I froze.

What if more snipers were here on this side of the wall, looking for me even now?

I held my breath, and I looked for a place to put my bomb. At last, I found it.

There was a door in the base of the wall—several of them, in fact. One of these doors was bigger than the rest, and the snow around it was all trampled and turned to mush and ice. I moved painfully toward this door, and I put the bomb down with the push-plate right up against the door. The moment anyone opened it—well sir, they’d be blown to kingdom-come.

My move was off-script, naturally. It was a big risk, but so was getting permed. I didn’t feel like losing my life, or Yellow-Eye’s or the giggling girl.

The long and short of it was I didn’t much care about the mission right now. I was going to fight this war my way. If you sent James McGill into action, well sir, you took the good with the bad. Surely the officers of Legion Varus had figured that out by now.

Hobbling away from the bomb, I headed down into the valley. Every second I fully expected to be shot in the back—but it didn’t happen. I guessed the Clavers were all looking for targets on the other side of the wall. They were Claver-Twos, probably. Smart enough to do something complicated like play sniper, but not so bright that they thought for themselves.

I almost made it down to Claver-village. It looked like Santa’s Workshop down there, and I began to feel hope welling up when a violent orange flash filled the air behind me.

The explosion hit me in the ass. I was thrown face-first into the snow, and I felt like something might have snapped—I hoped it was only another rib. Crawling and groaning, I reached back toward a powerful source of pain. I felt a hole in my drawers. I’d caught some shrapnel.

Rolling onto my back, I looked toward the great wall. There was a hole in it, sure as shit. It wasn’t too big of a hole, it was only maybe thirty meters across—but it was enough.

For about a minute, I just laid there on my back in the snow and laughed. I’d done it. I could only imagine the shock going through Claver-land right now. There was no one up on that wall other than the snipers who had plinked away and decimated my team. They had to be sounding every alarm, summoning reinforcements to the one fortification they’d stripped of troops.

This thought made me squint and stop laughing. The Claver-Primes running this show were many things, but they weren’t stupid. They’d order defenders to shift from the other two walls to this one… and those defenders would run right through my current position.

I was invisible, except for fresh red blood-streaks on the snow, but that might not matter. The coming troops might well walk right into me and stumble.

Groaning, I dragged my injured self toward cover. The only cover I could locate, unfortunately, was lower down in the village.

Getting to my feet, I stumbled and cursed as I forced myself to walk downhill into the very heart of Claver-land.

-42-

About two hundred steps. That’s as far as I made it before a company of Claver-Threes showed up, marching quickly upslope. It looked like they were coming right at me, meaning to arrest me, maybe—but I knew they shouldn’t be able to see me.

My first instinct was to freeze and stand there, holding my breath until they walked by—but the path was just too narrow. Men had forced their way through knee-deep snows here, and they’d forged a walkway that was clearly delineated. There was no way one of these men—or the next group that was just now appearing behind them—wouldn’t run into me.

Cursing quietly, I made a right-angled turn and took seven steps off the path. There, I stopped and stood, waiting and hoping they didn’t spot my footsteps.

The company was probably part of a reserve force from the central village, posted in the heart of their base just in case we managed to penetrate the valley somehow. They were heading right toward the hole I’d blown in their wall, and it was clear they meant to plug it.

Counting noses, I estimated thirty of them walked right past my footprints without so much as turning a curious glance. But then, mid-stream in the Claver army, one man paused.

He wasn’t like the rest. He was lighter of build and not weighed down with heavy weapons. He was probably a Claver-Two, a man with an average brain and abilities.

This guy stopped and looked at the strange trail leading off a few meters into the snow. I could tell his eyes were searching for the source of the anomaly. Naturally, he saw nothing.

The rest of the dumbass Clavers kept marching, grunting and muttering to themselves as they tended to do. They were intent on reaching the wall and blocking the attacking army, which even now was coming through the dome into the Valley of Death. I could hear the sniper-fire growing in frequency. The gunners up on the walls were shooting Varus troops no more than a kilometer behind me.

The smart guy didn’t follow his company, however. Instead, he dug in his pack and pulled out a pair of what looked like enhanced-vision goggles.

Shit…

The thought was clear in my mind, but I didn’t say it out loud. Instead, I dug out a pistol under my cloaking suit and lifted it in line with this overly-curious Claver. I’d lost my rifle at some point along the way—probably when I’d been blown off my feet earlier.

The Claver pulled the goggles over his head and powered them on. I knew the game was up. At this range, any vision-enhancement would reveal my position. Even the heat of my body, glowing against the cold snowy landscape, would give me away.

I fired a single shot, and I timed it so it came in the middle of a group of other sniper-rounds from the high walls. The sound was quieter but closer. A neat round hole appeared in my stealth suit, as I hadn’t bothered to lift it up to clear the muzzle.

Caught by surprise, the Claver floundered and bled profusely. He had a new hole in his goggles—I’d shot him right in the head.

It was time to move on. I hustled my wounded and banged-up self as fast as I could to get back onto the pathway. Then, I walked downslope. If only I could reach the village before the next company appeared… but it was not to be.

Two more companies were struggling in my direction. These were coming from two different angles. One from the east and one from the west. They had to be reinforcements moving in from both of the other walls. Behind each of these companies were two more formations of similar size. Altogether, something like a battalion of the enemy was heading to this very spot.

“Goddammit…” I cursed in a low tone.

I had to move faster now, injuries be damned. My bones ground together in places—an unpleasant sensation, if you’ve ever experienced it.

It was a race as masses of troops converged on my position from two different angles, but I reached the village before they reached the main pathway up to the wall.

This wasn’t much of a comfort, however. I was now in Claver-town, their base inside the walls. The whole place was hopping with enemy troops.

A prime approached. He had a squad of heavy Claver-Threes with him. He was heading toward the path I’d used to come down—but he wasn’t hurrying like everyone else.

After a dozen more steps, and I saw the goggles glowing on his face. He grinned at me.

“McGill? Is that you? Of course it is… Who else could be so tall and so obviously out of place? Do you know you’re bleeding light in several spectrums? Your stealth suit must be out of kilter.”

He laughed. He slapped his knee, he laughed so hard.

I lifted my pistol under my suit. I aimed carefully. I was pretty sure I was about to die, but with luck, I might take one more smart-ass out with me before I did.

Shaking his head, the Claver heaved a sigh. “Damn, boy. You like the direct route, don’t you? Is there any way we can make a deal before every human on this frozen rock dies?”

My pistol was up, and it was dead-on. All I had to do was pull the trigger. I almost did it, too.

But there was something about this man… he was different. He was waiting calmly for me to make my decision. Maybe he knew I had a gun on him—but he didn’t seem to care.

Around him, grunting and shuffling foot-to-foot, were a dozen idiot-Clavers. They were looking at him, looking around at the snow, sniffing the night air… they would tear me apart if I fired now. They’d all charge in a rage, and I doubted I could outrun them or escape their wrath. They’d sniff the ground for my scent if they had to.

Shifting my gaze back to the one smart man among them, I saw him looking directly at me.

“Well?” he asked. “Talk to me. It’s cold out here, and I’m getting bored.”

Then, at long last, my mind pulled certain hints and facts together. I was hurt, a little high with stims, and not too bright to begin with—but my brain does still work, after a fashion.

“Claver-X?” I asked. “Is that really you?”

“Of course it is, you moron. Who else would be talking to you instead of blazing away with both barrels?”

“Right. Sorry. I’m… I’m not in perfect condition.”

“Heh. I’m not surprised. Why are you even here?”

I pointed back over my shoulder, but I soon realized that he couldn’t see the gesture. Taking a chance, I pulled my stealth-suit over my head and pointed back toward the breached wall.

The dumbass Clavers reacted immediately. They surged upslope toward me with a single mind between them. They wanted nothing more than to destroy this intruder who’d appeared in their path.

Claver-X shouted at them, beating them with his fists and shoving them back. “Stand-down! Stand-down! No one is to kill this giant slack-jawed ignoramus until I order it, or he kills me first. Got it?”

Sullen and confused, the beastly men shuffled in the snows, showing me their teeth and glittering eyes as they moved to encircle me.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about, X,” I told him. “We’re not all going to die—just you are.”

“Let’s trade information first,” Claver-X said, walking up to me. “You go first. Talk—and you’d better make it fast and make it good.”

I shrugged. There weren’t any secrets left to my mission, as far as I could tell. “I’m here to destroy your wall. I already did that part… and now Legion Varus is flooding into the breach. You Clavers don’t have a chance. There isn’t enough of you to stop us.”

Claver-X rolled his eyes at me. Like every one of his kind, he seemed to think I was dumber than a fencepost. “McGill, that part is obvious. But what are your masters going to do about the invasion ships racing in on your flanks?”

“Uh… what?”

“Dear Lord…” Claver-X muttered. “Here, catch my feed.”

He flicked at his tapper, and mine lit up. I accepted the transmission, even though it was a breach of protocol to do so. You couldn’t trust an enemy not to send you a virus on the battlefield. Under the circumstances, I’d decided it was good idea to take the chance.

A shot of the star system flashed up. A lot of unknown contacts were streaming toward Ice World. Legion Varus was soon going to have company.

The ships were marked in yellow, and Dominus orbited the planet, and she was marked in red. That was correct from Claver’s point of view—after all, we were the enemy. Dominus was bigger than the invading ships, but she was badly outnumbered.

“Who the hell is that?” I demanded.

Claver-X snorted. “Who do you think it is? Hit yourself on the head a few times. Maybe that will shake something loose.”

“Uh… Armel’s saurian legion?”

“Close, but no cigar. Keep guessing.”

My mind swam, and I tried to think. Claver-X could have just told me, of course, but that wasn’t how he liked to operate. He enjoyed teasing people and pissing them off—just like the rest of his brothers.

All of sudden, it came to me.

“It’s the Tau, isn’t it? They’re after the coins, just like we are. No one else knows where we are.”

Claver-X pointed a black-gloved finger at me. “Bingo. My brothers called them here for help—but I’m starting to think they might have other intentions. They aren’t answering our hails.”

“Really? Huh… you want to know what I think?”

“Not really… but tell me anyway.”

“I think you Clavers are the dumbasses. Don’t you know they’ve been trying to find your gold ever since the Tech World campaign? You called them for help, and then showed them the way to your vault, like an idiot a flare up his butt. You brought them out here, and now they’ll screw both of us and take the money for themselves.”

“I think you’re right,” he said glumly.

I found this funny, so I laughed in his face. “You boys are too clever for your own good, aren’t you? So, is this why you’re out here talking to me?”

“That’s right. At this point both of us stand to lose everything.”

I tried hard to think clearly. It wasn’t easy to do. “You really think they can take Legion Varus? A bunch of Tau?”

He nodded his head. “Of course they can. Count those ships—there must be damn near fifty of them. If they carry a thousand Tau each, they outnumber your troops and mine combined by two to one.”

“Huh… I guess it could be like you say. I guess we should clean you boys out and cart all those coins out of here as fast as we can.”

“No dice, thief. We’re not that stupid. We’ve set up teleportation routes. We’ll take the coins out of here to a new safe spot.”

I shook my head in return. “You’re lying. This dome is blocking teleportation and gateways. You can’t go through your own barrier—we checked. What’s more, if you dare drop the dome, all kinds of hell will rush in here from Dominus. They’re just waiting for a chance to nail you.”

Naturally, I was lying too. As far as I knew, the Gray Deck techs up on Dominus weren’t ready to launch breakfast much less any attacks right now—but old X didn’t know that.

We stood there and glared at each other for a second or two. We were both feeling distrustful.

“Okay,” Claver-X said at last. “This brings us back to my initial question. What do you want, McGill? What kind of deal between your folks and mine can bring this unpleasantness to an end? Sure, my side is trapped here—but if you take the coins, the Tau will swoop right down here and confiscate them in turn.”

“I don’t rightly know what I can do about any of this. I’m here to do a mission, and it’s done. I think I’ll just die and let the next James worry about it.”

“Aw, come on. You’re not a quitter, boy! Talk to me. Let’s make a deal.”

All Clavers loved deals. It was a critical part of their overworked DNA. It occurred to me that a deal might be worth striking right now—or at least it might be worth trying.

“Okay…” I said. “I’ll talk to Graves.”

I lifted my tapper, but Claver-X was suddenly on top of me. He put a hand on my wrist, but I broke free.

All around me, a dozen snarling, ape-like Clavers clustered close.

“Hold on,” Claver-X said. “Let’s think this over. Let’s come to a private agreement before we talk to anyone else.”

The sounds of fighting were now loud up on the slope behind me. Legion Varus was marching into that narrow gorge, but even with their wall broken, the Clavers were putting up a good fight.

“Men are dying back there even now,” I said.

“That’s right, and that’s an awful thing. Think, boy. Every man that dies, McGill—that’s one less man that could be used to stop the Tau. You know I’m right. Talk to me and talk to me fast.”

I turned back in his direction. I squinted at him. He really wanted a deal, and he wanted it now.

But why? I wracked my foggy brain until I thought I had it. “You want something to tell your side, don’t you? They’ll want a deal to stop the shooting as well.”

“Of course. A simple ceasefire will do. That’s—”

“No,” I said. “My commanders know they have you in a tight spot. They’ll want to press into Claver-town. They won’t want to delay and let you build up your defenses. Here’s the deal: You pull back right now. Abandon that big broken wall of yours. Fall back to the village and the other two walls. Then, we’ll talk.”

“That’s crazy.”

I shrugged. “Maybe, but as things stand, you’re all going to die anyway. Either Varus will kill you or the Tau will. But if you retreat and turtle-up down here, we’ll have time to negotiate. There’s no way to cut a deal in the middle of a pitched battle. My officers won’t listen.”

Claver-X chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I can’t simply order the troops on the southern wall to withdraw. There are other Claver-Primes around. They’ll want to know what’s up.”

We locked eyes. “You’ll have to blow your cover. You’ll have to come clean. Tell your brothers who you are—then suggest a better path.”

“With nothing to offer them? They won’t listen, McGill. You know that.”

He sounded tortured now, and I knew why. He was trying to figure a way out of this, and he wasn’t seeing it. What’s more, I knew his brothers. They wanted to kill him, as he was an aberrant version of their own genes. They hated him just as much as they hated me—probably more.

“How about this…” I said. “How about we split the coins, fifty-fifty?”

He blinked at me. “What? Are you crazy?”

“Fifty-fifty, or we both get squat. Talk to them—talk to your crazy relatives.”

Claver-X rubbed his neck. He hissed. He paced in the snow—but after about a full minute of that crap, he made a fateful call.

-43-

I don’t know exactly what Claver-X told his relatives, but it didn’t seem like they were happy about it.

A full company of Claver-Threes appeared in the village. They poured like insects out of their underground barracks—from the same holes where I’d seen them emerge before.

Marching with obvious determination, the leader of this company was another twin to the man with whom I was negotiating.

“Uh…” I said. “Are they coming to talk or to kill us?”

“Might be both. Just wait here.”

Bravely, Claver-X marched downslope to meet his brother. For a good ninety seconds, the two gestured and spoke heated words. I was too far away to catch the details.

Finally, a gun cracked and blazed bright in the night. One of the two men fell in the snow, as dead as yesterday.

Around me, the Claver-Threes snarled and stomped their feet. They didn’t like seeing one of their masters die. Not even when another boss-Claver was responsible.

In frustration, they became kind of ornery. Three of them grabbed onto my limbs. I wasn’t expecting this, but I put one man down on his face before the other two held me tight. Four more reached out, and I was pinned.

My body burned with a dozen injuries. I hissed and squirmed—but the Claver-Threes held me firmly.

The man who’d won the argument came walking upslope in my direction. He took his time. He gave a hand-signal, and I saw how the troops around me all squeezed a notch tighter with their hair-knuckled fingers.

Hand signals. That’s how he was controlling them. He’d made some kind of sign, and they’d all grabbed me. I should have expected it.

“Well, well, well… is it really James McGill? To what do I owe this intense honor?”

It wasn’t Claver-X, it was the other guy. A real Claver-Prime. Don’t get me wrong, I could deal with this type, but they were nowhere near as friendly as X.

“Hello Claver. What can I do for you?”

“You can start by explaining how you managed to pollute the mind of my brother over there with your particular brand of deviltry.”

“No can do. He did that all by himself.”

“Huh…” Claver came near, and he put his hands on his hips. “He told me you came here to deal, is that right?”

“That’s right,” I said. “The Tau are in-system. When they get here, we’re all going to lose out.”

Claver snorted. “I’ve died before. It’s no big deal. Only yesterday, in fact—”

I interrupted quickly with a rude laugh. “I’m not talking about life and death, fool,” I told him. “I’m talking about money. Real money. Galactic money.”

Claver squinted at me. I knew I’d just pushed a stack of buttons in this man’s twisted brain. For one thing, no Claver liked to be called stupid. It was the thing they hated above all else.

All else, that was, except losing money on a deal.

“Why should we negotiate, you big dipshit?”

“Because you’re trapped. Your walls are falling, and we’re winning this fight. The only reason we’re willing to negotiate at all is because the Tau have arrived to steal everything. Really, you guys should bend down and kiss their hard, skinny butts and thank them for your salvation.”

Claver snorted. “McGill pulls a move… now I’ve seen everything. How do you plan to get this deal approved on your side of the fence, boy?”

I blinked a few times. He hadn’t bought my implicit point that Legion Varus was behind this offer—Clavers weren’t known for their gullibility after all.

“I’ll tell you,” I said. “If you tell me first why you bushwhacked your brother over there.”

Claver glanced downslope toward the crumpled form in the snow. A Claver-Three was poking at the remains curiously.

“Because that wasn’t me. I mean, he wasn’t one of us—not exactly. Any deal you had with him is null and void as of this moment.”

“Too bad. The terms were sweet.”

“Out with it. What are your terms?”

“First off we have to stop the shooting.” Even as I said this, the pop and crackle of gunfire increased out at the wall. Varus troops were pushing hard. It looked like the Clavers in the breach were holding, but they were taking losses. It was no longer a one-sided turkey-shoot for the defenders.

“I get that,” Claver said. “What else?”

“Then we fight together to destroy the Tau. Afterward, we split the coins evenly and go our separate ways.”

“What? Half my coins? You’re out of your mind. We’d sooner melt them down.”

“Okay—then do it. You can start melting them right now. What’s stopping you?”

He looked at me with hate in his eyes. “McGill, you don’t know what you’re dealing with here today.”

“Oh no? I think I do. You’re the genius who managed to let me take down one of your three walls solo. Soon, legion Varus and her support-legion of Blood Worlders is going to come swarming in here and destroy you all. Your options are few, and they’ll soon tip toward none.”

He showed his teeth in anger. “All right… I agree.”

I blinked once. Then twice.

“Uh…” I said. “Don’t you have to, like, confer with your brothers on this? I mean… how do you Clavers agree on these things?”

He grinned, but his grin wasn’t a healthy one. He turned and pointed at the dead man in the snow. “Like that. That’s how we do it—sometimes. I’m the only Claver-Prime alive on this outpost right now. When you make a decision alone, see, it’s pretty easy to establish a consensus.”

“Okay… what about Abigail?”

His face fell. “Don’t worry about her. She’s moved on.”

“What do you mean? You’ve got no way off this rock.”

From his expression, I could tell I was starting to piss him off. “We don’t have an escape route now, but she left after your last visit. Forget about her—you want to do this deal or not?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m good with it.”

“Good.”

I was actually a bit worried about Abigail. I’d told her about that missing part of her mind, and about Claver-X… and now she was missing herself. Claver-X was dead, too.

Part of my impulsive brain wanted to demand answers. But if I did that, I might compromise her delicate situation. I didn’t want to get her in anymore trouble than she already was. Accordingly, I faked a smile.

“Okay,” I said. “Just tell your dumber selves to back off.”

He gave another hand-signal, and the Claver-Threes released me. I rubbed some feeling back into my sore arms. They’d let go of me, but they still stood around very closely as I was escorted down into the village.

We walked by the dead Claver-X, who was just a motionless body in the snow. Claver paused to spit on him.

“Hey…” I said. “That fellow… he wasn’t right in the head, is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s true, I had to fix him. Make sure I don’t have to fix you, too.”

“You’ve got my personal James McGill guarantee.”

We entered the central fortifications, and I explained the details of my plan. As I walked with the Claver-Prime, I became concerned. There were lots of dead men around. They were mostly Claver-Primes and Claver-Twos, as far as I could tell.

“Uh…” I said, surveying the carnage. “I think I’ve seen about seven of your close relatives. Did you kill them all?”

Claver shrugged. “No—but I killed most of them. A few died stopping your assaults on our walls. When the south wall went down… I decided it was time to clean house. I found fault with my brothers and their plans. Ruling as a committee has always been dogshit—but I fixed that, like I said.”

I nodded as if this was the most normal statement I’d heard all day. “How do I contact my ship?”

Once we were down in their underground bunkers, Claver handed me a wire. He plugged the other end into a console. I plugged my end into my tapper’s external port. The wire led outside the dome using a landline under the deep bedrock of the mountains that surrounded us.

“Hello? This is Centurion McGill, calling Dominus.”

I called three times like that before a buzzing reply came back to my ears. “Get off this frequency, McGill—if you are McGill. This isn’t approved for Legion communications.”

“Uh… yeah, I know that. Could you put me touch with the imperator?”

“No. Disconnect. Repeat, disconnect.”

Claver grabbed the wire from my tapper and rammed it into his. A tiny squirt of blood shot out of his arm. These organic ports could be messy.

“Dominus? This is Claver command. I want to talk to your captain.”

That statement was met with silence for about ten seconds. Finally, Captain Merton came on the line. “Who is this? McGill? Are you playing a prank again? If so, it isn’t amusing.”

“No, Captain. This is Claver-Prime, the sole commander of this fortification.”

“Really? Interesting… where’s McGill? I was told that—”

“McGill is here. He’s my prisoner.”

“Ah!” Merton said. “Now I understand. Unfortunately, I have to decline any offer to negotiate for his release. You’d best kill him right now, he makes a bad house pet.”

I leaned into the conversation. “He’s right about that, you know.”

Claver frowned and leaned away from me. He explained at length what he wanted, and he insisted that Turov was contacted. At last, Merton relented, and Galina came onto the screen.

“Galina, my old friend!” Claver said.

“What do you want, Claver? Make it fast, I have a battle to run. I’m planning on making your family extinct.”

“Really? That’s sad to hear, Imperator. In good faith, I withdrew from the southern wall. Your men can see that, can’t they?”

She was quiet for a second. Obviously, she was busy checking up on Claver’s words. “Why have you withdrawn? If this is a trick, you should know that it won’t work.”

“And you should know, Ice-Queen, that your assault can’t work, either.”

“Why’s that?”

Claver signaled a Claver-Two. With no words and no expression of interest, the subservient man worked a board covered in controls. Soon, a video feed appeared. It depicted a large stack of crates. They were all open, and they all appeared to contain Imperial coins.

“You see that? This pile of Galactic coins represents a fortune worth more than every star system in your home province twice over. Now, may I direct your attention to the explosives wired carefully to every crate?”

“Explosives?” Turov snapped. “What are you doing, Claver?”

“Hedging my bets. Let’s separate one of those crates and set it off, shall we boys?”

A Class-Two summoned two of his gorillas and began to work. Soon, they had a chest of coins positioned a dozen meters from the others.

“You wouldn’t dare, Claver,” Turov said. “That’s all your wealth in one basket, and you love money.”

Claver shrugged. “I love my money, you cast-iron bitch. If you force your way in here, it won’t be mine any longer. Worse, the Tau are coming. They won’t be stopped by my army—or yours.”

“We can defeat the Tau.”

Claver released a long, dirty laugh. “I don’t think so. I think it’s for the best that I annihilate this filthy pile of wealth right now. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll turn away if I do. Have you noticed that I’m broadcasting this in the clear? The Tau are listening.”

“Claver, you’re talking crazy. You wouldn’t destroy that kind of money—”

“I don’t think you’re listening to me! I’m the smallest player here, and I’ve got everything to lose. Why wouldn’t I burn my stash just to burn you?”

Turov was quiet for a moment. I knew she was seething. Possibly, she was abusing her subordinates up aboard Dominus. This conversation wasn’t going the way she wanted it to.

“Clearly, we need more time to discuss this,” she said. “I’ve ordered my troops to halt their advance. They’ve taken your southern wall, and they’ll wait there until we’ve sorted this out.”

“I thank you profusely, madam. When can I be expecting you?”

“Expecting me to do what?”

“Fly down here and negotiate, that’s what. We want to share our famous Claver hospitality with you.”

She snorted. “As if. How could I trust you not to try to make me a hostage?”

Claver shrugged. “I’ve already got McGill, here.”

She laughed. “No one cares about McGill. He doesn’t even care if he lives or dies.”

I nodded, unable to deny her words.

Claver looked annoyed. “I formally offer you my word as a Claver. A trader of wonderful things from across the—”

“All right, all right. Save the speech. I’m coming down to your frozen turd-hole planet.”

She broke off the connection, and I looked at Claver with new respect. “You drive a hard bargain, Claver.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

Galina came down from Dominus like a falling angel. I was thunderstruck when Claver dropped the dome long enough for her flitter to pass inside. She flew her small craft right into Claver-town. You would have thought the place was Santa’s village and all the bloodthirsty clones were elves.

Galina marched up to us with an angry step. Neither one of them seemed interested in small talk.

“Half?” she demanded. “Seriously? We get half? Do you expect Nox and her Nairbs to be happy with that?”

Claver shrugged. “I don’t expect anything from your alien overlords. That’s your problem. I will point out, however, that half is a great deal better than nothing. Take it or leave it.”

She complained and paced around, but in the end, she agreed.

Over the next few hours, the last living Claver-Prime and Galina hammered out the details of their contract, including how the coins would be delivered. The basic idea was the Clavers would withdraw with their portion after the coming battle with the Tau, and they’d leave Earth’s share behind.

I was surprised they could come to an agreement so quickly—but then again, the Tau were closing in. Nothing focusses the mind like impending doom.

Overhead, in the cold black night sky, lights appeared and brightened—then they faded to black again.

“They’re sliding into orbit,” Claver told us. “They’re still way out there… six hundred thousand kilometers out. What’s your first move, Imperator?”

Galina peered overhead. The dome was still above us, still shimmering. It distorted our view of the heavens slightly, but not so much that we couldn’t see what was happening.

“Dominus can’t stop so many ships… but we must destroy some of them before they reach the ground. Here’s my idea.”

She laid out a simple but devious plan. Claver approved.

That night, I witnessed a marvel. Earth forces cooperated with the Clavers in battle. It was a strange sight to see, even for eyes like mine which had viewed many marvels, some grim and some wondrous.

-44-

Most of the Clavers withdrew from all three of their walls. They moved to the center point—their crappy little snow-dusted village. They were to operate as a reserve and a final line of defense.

Legion Varus and her support legion entered the dome unimpeded on all three sides once the Clavers had pulled back. Half the cohorts parked themselves outside the walls on open ground. Of the remaining troops who weren’t dead at the moment, half moved to defend the northern two walls, while the rest deployed at the southern wall, which still had a gaping black hole in the bottom of it.

“Did you have to blow such a huge gap in our defenses, James?” Galina asked me.

My jaw dropped, as I was astounded. “Sir, if I hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t be getting our hands on any of these coins at all.”

“All right, all right. Stop making excuses. Where will you make your stand?”

“Uh… what?”

“Where are you fighting? The southern wall can use you—we’ve got the most men there, but I’m still not sure it can hold.”

I tugged at my uniform and showed her my wounded arm and side. “I’m not really in any condition, sir. I need to get patched up first.”

She came close, and she inspected my injuries with concern. She ran her fingers over my arm, and I winced in pain.

“Hmm…” she said, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. “James, I need you here with me. I want you to watch these Clavers and keep my flank safe.”

“I can certainly help with that.”

She suddenly pulled out a long, slim pistol. “There will be hard fighting here in the morning—maybe earlier. I’m bringing down half of my revival machines and plenty of bio people and techs. We’ll set up a field hospital right here.”

“Uh…”

She shot me then. I fell in the snow, and I cursed at her. “What the hell was that for?”

“I told you, I need you—I mean I need you healthy and ready to fight. Don’t worry, I’m moving you up to the top of the revival queue. Don’t flirt with the Blue Deck girls when you come back, there’s no time for nonsense.”

* * *

I’m not a man who’s terrified of dying, nor am I a man who relishes it. But I do get sour when I feel I’ve been treated in a disrespectful manner. Accordingly, when I awakened again, I came off the table growling.

That initial bravado soon turned to shivering. There was no heat in the revival tent—none at all.

“Damnation!” I complained. “Who forgot to pay the gas bill?”

“Centurion, put on your uniform. You’re needed at the front.”

Squinting, I was disgusted to realize the revival team was made up entirely of unimaginative Claver-Twos. These dry, buzz-kill specialists had revived me in the past, and they were never much fun to converse with.

Grunting and shivering, I pulled on some clothes—and that’s when I saw it.

My jaw sagged low. A familiar locker from Dominus was waiting near the exit. I staggered to it quickly and fell to my knees. While the Class-Twos stared, I unlocked it and reached inside.

Lifting my hands high, I shook out a large, black suit of rubbery armor. It was a very special suit, made by Vulbites and reputed by all to be damned-near impenetrable.

Grinning, I donned the armor. All the cursing and red-faced hate I’d been feeling toward Galina for killing me faded away. She’d sent someone down from Dominus with my personal armor. To me, that indicated she cared after all. She really cared.

Stomping out of the tent, I was less pleased by the exterior world. Scanning the skies, I saw it was predawn. The frosty landscape was about as cold as it got out here on Ice World, and I wasn’t a fan.

Searching around the village for Galina, I didn’t find her. I did, however, walk past a load of Claver-Threes. They reflexively reached for their weapons when they spotted me. Their hands froze on their rifles, and they stared. I watched their arms twitch, and their fingers make squeezing motions. It must have been hard on them, as their every instinct was to shoot me down.

“Hiya boys!” I said, distributing good cheer and hearty back-slaps to every snarling, beast-like clone I passed by.

They bristled, but not one of them did so much as nod in return. Rude.

A surprising amount of work had been done since I’d been murdered by my supposed girlfriend. The biggest change consisted of a squadron of space-fighters parked in the snow between the village and the southern wall.

“Would you look at that,” I said, breathing out puffs of steam. Curious, I walked to the spacecraft and whistled.

Almost immediately, a Fleet MP approached me. “Centurion? This is a restricted area. I’m going to have to ask you to step back.”

“Are these fighters from Dominus?” I asked.

“Yes sir, they are.”

“Wow… sometimes a lot happens while you’re dead. When did they come down? How did they get through the dome?”

The Fleet puke looked annoyed, and his eyebrows were frosted with ice. I couldn’t blame him for being out of sorts, as he’d somehow drawn guard duty in the snow.

“Sir, I don’t think I’m supposed to—”

“Aw, come on. I’m no Claver. I’m asking a legit question.”

“Yeah… I guess that’s true. It’s insane that we’re putting our spacecraft right here on the ground next to all these Clavers. In answer to your questions, the fighters were flown down a few hours ago. Right now, they’re bringing down a lifter full of armament and fuel for them.”

“Huh… what’s the point? I mean, what’s their mission?”

The guard shrugged. “I don’t know, sir. I’m just serving the night shift out here with orders to keep everyone away from the fighters.”

“Where are the frigging pilots?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.

He pointed downslope sourly. “They’re down there, in the village.”

“Drinking beer and dancing with each other, huh? I get it. Say, what if I get you a hot mug from the village?”

“That would be really cool on your part, sir.”

I smiled at him, and he smiled back. I’d made a friend.

Right about then however, my tapper began buzzing. I cursed with each buzz that vibrated my forearm. A few seconds later the damned thing lit up and started talking to me. I wasn’t happy to see Graves’ ugly face staring up at mine.

“McGill? Where are you? My personnel-tracker has counted twenty-one wasted minutes since your revive. Get to the southern wall and join your unit.”

I opened my mouth to object, but he was gone. My tapper went dark again.

“Damn…” I looked at the MP. “Sorry Chief, but you’re going to have to wait awhile to get that drink.”

“No problem, Centurion. I’d rather be here on guard duty anyway. That wall… it’s bad out there I hear.”

“Is that right? Well, it was nice talking to you.”

Without hurrying one iota, I ambled up the hill toward the southern wall. As I got closer, I began to frown. I’d really done a number on these fortifications with that warhead.  Now, I almost regretted my effectiveness. The hole was about thirty meters wide, and it looked like there were a lot of cracks radiating out from it. The whole wall had to be unstable.

The opening itself was crowded with big soldiers. Most of them were Blood Worlders—the heavy trooper types.

The big men didn’t look happy. They were cold and miserable. Sure, they’d been issued some flappy parkas that looked as big as circus tents, but I knew their kind was from a hot planet. This world must be a living hell for them.

Even so, they weren’t complaining. It wasn’t in their nature. They milled around in the breach, balefully eyeing the cracked puff-crete over their heads. Now and then a chunk of masonry broke loose and thudded onto one of their helmets.

Pushing my way through the throng, I saw another mass of heavy troopers. These poor bastards had the unenviable job of clearing away the dead that choked the pass outside. They had walking drones known as pigs to help, and a few true giants, but it looked like hard work anyway. I guess the brass had figured the Tau could use our dead for cover, so the frozen bodies had to be pushed back outside the dome.

Checking my tapper, I located my own unit. My troops were stationed up on the wall itself. I marched up there, disappointed that there wasn’t an elevator built inside the wall.

Several long minutes later, I stepped out onto the wall top. Immediately, a frozen wind howled into my open faceplate.

“Holy moly!” I complained. “It’s frigging freezing up here!”

“McGill?” Harris rushed up to me. He had that intense look on his face he usually had when we were about to go into battle. “Centurion, sir, I need you to straighten out Leeson.”

“Uh… how’s that?”

“He’s gone crazy. He’s set up his 88s on the top of this structure.”

Looking around, I saw Harris was right. As a combined arms unit, we had a variety of weapons and troop types in our team. There was a platoon of light troopers, another of heavy, and a third of auxiliaries. Those specialists were Leeson’s babies.

“So what?”

Harris lowered his voice. “Sir, we don’t have to be up here on the top of the wall. I’d rather be down low, on the inside of the breach. We could back up the heavy troopers if they can’t hold. If we planted those 88s just a few hundred meters on the inside of the wall—”

“Come on, Harris. Sure, its blue-balls cold up here, but there’s nowhere better for an 88 to get a good sweep pattern than up high. Leeson’s doing it right.”

“With all due respect, Centurion—that’s nuts! The enemy is going to come right through that dome, and they’re going to get lit up by our artillery. Two other units are up here, but several are deploying on the inside of the wall, at ground-level. Given the choice, why the hell are we up here with our asses hanging out in the breeze?”

I was beginning to get the idea that everything wasn’t hunky-dory in 3rd Unit. Leeson was my second in command, being the most senior with his officer’s commission date. He liked his 88s, as that was his best weapon and artillery was near and dear to his heart.

Harris, on the other hand, liked surviving battles intact. He didn’t want to kill more of the enemy than anyone else in the cohort—he wanted to walk away with all his parts still attached to his body.

I could appreciate the opinions of both men. If we could choose our ground… it was a serious decision.

“Sir,” Harris pressed me. He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “My armored platoon can’t do much up here. We can throw down a few power-bolts from our rifles, sure. But I can’t use my force-blade. I can’t—”

“Suck it up, Harris!” Leeson shouted. He’d spotted us talking, and he marched over to greet me. “You’re wearing that Vulbite-made suit again, aren’t you McGill?”

“Looks that way.”

Leeson whistled. “Has Harris convinced you to play chicken inside the walls yet?”

I shook my head. “No, but he’s working on it.”

“It’s not chicken to want to meet the enemy head-on!” Harris interjected.

“Hmm…” I said, thinking about their opinions carefully. Up here, Barton’s light platoon could play sniper. Leeson’s weaponeers could burn down hundreds of attacking Tau—but Harris was left waving his dick in the wind. He was right in saying his team was disadvantaged.

“Okay,” I said, “here’s how we’re going to play this. Harris and I will go down into the breach and deploy there with the Blood Worlders. Leeson, you’ll stay up here with Barton’s lights. It means splitting up, but I think the risk is worth it on this occasion.”

No one was completely happy with this compromise, not even Harris. Since I was in command, they did as I ordered. Soon, thirty-odd armored warriors were setting up to plug holes that had appeared in the Blood Worlder line at the bottom of the wall.

Once we were in place and organized, we didn’t have long to wait. Less than an hour after I woke up and drew my first ragged breath, the enemy assault began.

-45-

When the shooting started, I was squatting in the very hole I’d blown open in the southern wall. It wasn’t a safe spot—it wasn’t even a good spot—but it was where I planned to make a stand.

Overhead, the Tau ships were closing in on Ice World. A common misconception among Earth folks is that the Tau are cowardly and disinterested in everything except money. While that second part was generally true… the first part wasn’t.

I’d seen the Tau armies in action back on Tech World. Sure, they were a small people, and they were more interested in playing tug-of-war over a penny than military affairs, but when they got riled, they could mass-up and become a powerful foe with their vast numbers.

The Tau invasion ships didn’t simply charge at Ice World, despite their superior numbers. Instead, they came into orbit on the far side of the planet and then slid around toward Dominus on both her eastern and western flanks. With twenty-plus small ships closing in on each side, Dominus fired a barrage with each of her broadsides, sending shells both east and west around the planet’s equator.

Overhead, the battle was hard to make out, but there were hints. Dominus had fired all her cannons, and the warheads were flying toward the enemy at fantastic speeds. Thirty-two streaking vapor trails were visible in the sky.

These warheads moved like dumb weapons at first, but then they veered at the last second toward the dodging enemy ships. A dozen hits were recorded.

“Ha!” Harris shouted. He was watching the legion officers’ broadcast of the battle, just as I was. “Did you see that, McGill? We swatted down a lot of those flies!”

It was true, but I wasn’t ready to cheer yet. I watched as the enemy ships fired back. Each small gunship had a single cannon, it seemed. Over forty shells moved on track, creeping toward the larger ship that was directly overhead.

Right after her broadsides hit home, Dominus chose to wink out. She’d gone to warp, probably moving to the outskirts of the star system.

It was a wise move—if a cowardly one. She outranged her opponents, and she’d struck them hard, but she couldn’t afford to absorb the Tau counterattack.

“And now she’s gone,” Leeson said over my unit’s tactical channel. He was calling down from the top of the wall, where his platoon had deployed. “That was some razzle-dazzle on Captain Merton’s part. He flew the coop, and he’ll live to fight another day.”

Carlos even came over to my location just to complain. Apparently, even the noncoms were sharing the feed. “That was sheer chickenry! I bet running off was Turov’s idea, wasn’t it, McGill?”

It was true of course. I’d checked her status the moment the big ship left orbit, suspecting the same thing Carlos was suggesting. After all, Galina had run from unpleasant battles on previous occasions.

“That’s right,” I told him, “now shut up, or I’ll have you dig in the trenches.”

He scuttled off while I examined the skies. I kept a grim watch on my tapper as well. There was one troubling fact that I couldn’t ignore. “Adjuncts…” I called over tactical chat, “order your men to take cover.”

“What?” Harris asked. “Do you see the Tau on the ground already?”

“No, but those shells they fired are still on track. Take a look—then get your men to safety!”

“Oh shit…” Leeson called from the wall top. He’d figured it out, too. “Those shells aren’t going for Dominus—not anymore. There’s only one other target worth shooting at on this planet.”

We all looked up at the shimmering dome that covered the entire stronghold.

“Do you think the dome will hold, sir?” Barton asked. She was up on the wall with Leeson, and I had no doubt she was staring upward and squinting at the sky like the rest of us. At any second, our eyes expected to be met with blinding flashes.

To confirm our suspicions, Graves broke into the audio on every channel a moment later. “This is a planet-wide alert. We’ve got multiple thermonuclears in-bound. All personnel, seek shelter immediately. Dig a hole in the snow if you have to.”

Up on top of the wall, pandemonium broke out. Leeson had been in the safest spot on this flank an hour ago, but now his high ground seemed like a deathtrap.

“Leeson, Barton,” I called out, “leave the artillery in place and retreat down inside the wall itself. Harris, we’ll move into the breach in the wall and ride it out.”

“But sir, what if the wall comes down? It’s been structurally compromised—besides, there are like a hundred Blood Worlder fat-boys milling around down there.”

“You got any better ideas, Harris?”

He pointed toward some bunkers to the west. They were sunk into the side of the mountains. They doubtlessly linked up with the caves in the area.

“Let’s camp in there,” he suggested.

I agreed, and we took his heavy platoon on a hike. I gave Barton and Leeson free range as well. They could do whatever they wanted to keep their men alive.

It was likely that all our planning at this point was meaningless. The fusion warheads would either smash through the dome or they wouldn’t. If they did… well, just one of those warheads would be enough to wipe out every soldier assigned to the southern wall, shelter or no. Despite this likely outcome, it never hurt to take every precaution you could.

As we reached the vacant bunker and piled into the cold dark interior, a compounded series of roars swept over us.

“It’s the fighter squadron, sir,” Harris said. “Graves launched them early. Maybe they can do something about the bombardment.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t hopeful. I suspected Graves had launched the small spacecraft in order to get them out from under this dome. If it was about to go poof, at least some of our assets would still be in the game.

-46-

Contrary to popular belief, force-fields don’t stop everything a powerful warhead can deliver. Sure, they can push back the shockwave, the fire, and even some of the radiation—but not all of it.

There are different kinds of radiation, see. There’s particle radiation, of course, which consists of protons and neutrons blasted free of their home molecules. But then there’s the other kind… energy-based radiation. This consists of things like visible light, radio waves, x-rays, microwaves and infrared… All these things are harmless when generated by a low-powered source, but they become really nasty when released by a fusion bomb.

Fearing that the Claver-made force dome wouldn’t be up to the test, we huddled inside our bunker. The limited space had quickly filled up with grunting Claver-Threes. It was kind of weird, huddling in a dark chamber with hundreds of strange men who had very recently been trying to kill you. In fact, whenever I crouched down nuts-to-butts with these primitives, they still reflexively grasped at their weapons. They strongly remembered their old conditioning, and their new orders were in direct conflict with all their instincts. After tensing up to do battle, they slowly forced themselves to relax. All that time you knew what they really wanted to do.

To pass the time—which was only a dozen or so minutes, to be fair—I watched the streaming video feed from outside on my tapper. The big show began when streaks of light appeared in the sky over the dome. The warheads fell with arcing contrails of blue vapor behind them. It looked like fifty-odd comets were converging on us all at once.

“We’re frigging doomed,” Harris said. “There’s no way in hell some bubble-wrap dome is going to hold up under that many shells.”

“You could be right, but you’d best shut up about it for now.”

Harris did close his big mouth, but the camera feed coming from outside spread virally among the troops. Some swore, some laughed, some hissed in frustration, and a few prayed.

The dumbass Clavers did none of these things. They looked vaguely at the imagery without any change of expression. I doubted that they could comprehend the awesome forces that were descending upon us from the heavens.

“Today,” Harris said to me, “we’re witnessing ironclad proof that ignorance truly is bliss.”

I had to agree. The Clavers were definitely the only people in the bunker who weren’t shitting themselves.

At last, the warheads began to make their final plunging descent. In answer to the attack, a volley of anti-air missiles were launched from our side to counter the attack. These shot up and looked like they were going to strike the inside of the dome, but instead the dome flickered out for a moment, allowing the missiles to pass by. Then it brightened again. The antimissiles vaulted upward, accelerating toward the falling warheads.

At the same time, a dozen of Dominus’ fighters returned to the skies. They fired on the warheads as well, destroying a number of them.

I was surprised by how things went when push came to shove. As they’d proven in the past, the Clavers running this fortress knew their business. They’d dropped their protective dome just long enough to release a barrage of antimissiles. My troops dared to whoop when they saw this, and the help from the fighters.

We watched with our hearts pounding in our bellies. Sweat tickled in my hair, but I didn’t dare open my visor to scratch.

The two volleys of weaponry converged. The antimissiles were moving fast, but I suspected they didn’t have much range. To confirm this, I saw a few falter and go dark, falling back to the surface of the planet.

But most soared onward. The two lines met with a series of brilliant, orange-white flashes. These flashes went on and on, increasing in frequency until they resembled splattering raindrops of fire—but at last, the moment passed. The antimissiles had all been spent. Some had hit their targets and knocked them out, others had failed…

“Three, I count only three left—no, four!” Harris said excitedly. “Those crazy, genetic-robot Clavers knocked out ninety percent of the incoming warheads. That’s amazing! These guys know their shit.”

“They sure do,” I said, “but now comes the hard part. Put your heads down, everyone.”

My troops hastened to do as I suggested. Around us, the Claver-Threes watched our odd behavior quizzically. They resembled house pets who were puzzled by the antics of their masters.

Then the strikes began to land. You could feel the rocky mountainside jump under your body. Dirt sifted down from the roof of the bunker, and the Claver-Threes howled with concern. Wide-eyed, they studied the walls of the chamber. A few hunkered down like we did, but most of them just looked around in fear.

A roaring sound finished off the attack. It sounded as if a sky-train had run right over our bunker.

Twenty seconds later it was all over, and the base fell eerily quiet. In the distance, we heard sirens blaring.

“Okay, okay!” I boomed, standing tall and hitting my head on the low ceiling. I pretended not to care. “Kivi, give me a reading on the external environment.”

She looked at me with frightened eyes, but she nodded and crawled to the main doors. They were sealed with a big wheel and strips of rubber. She tugged at the wheel for a few seconds.

“The door won’t open. I can’t budge it. I think the ceiling has shifted.”

“Weaponeers, let’s get some muscle up there to help her…” I trailed off.

Three of the Clavers had stood up. Opening a stuck door—that they understood. I waved my weaponeers back. In case it was Hell on Earth outside, I would rather scorch the Clavers.

They heaved on the metal wheel. Their shoulders bulged and veins stood out on their faces. Kivi stood back, as she was just in the way.

After a few long seconds, the wheel shifted a few centimeters with a squealing sound. Then it began to spin. Heaving together, the three Clavers managed to force the wheel to move to the opened position. A green light went on.

They pushed on it—but it still didn’t move.

“There might be something in the way,” Sargon said.

I could tell he wanted to step in and help, but I put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a shake of the head.

“Those boys have got it!” I said encouragingly. “Don’t worry about a thing. These guys have plenty of muscle.”

Breathing hard, the three Clavers laid their six gloved hands on the door. They shoved and kicked at it. After a full minute of this, it finally swung outward with a loud groan of grinding metal.

Outside, I expected to see a flaming wasteland—but it wasn’t that bad. Sure, the sky was kind of a lurid red, and there was smoke everywhere, but—

“Holy shit,” Harris said. “Where did all the snow go?”

He was right. The ice and snow that had coated the valley had mostly melted. There were patches of it still, looking like melted white wax, but those were rare.

In the sky overhead, the dome was still there, but it was flickering and orangey-brown.

“Radiation levels, Kivi?” I asked.

“Oh… one second…” She deployed drones and crept out into the open, slipping between the befuddled Clavers. She took measurements and transmitted them back to me.

“It’s hot out here—hot with radiation, I mean. No one should breathe the air. No one should get out of their spacer suits. But the levels of toxicity aren’t higher than we can tolerate in our regular suits.”

I spent a few minutes trying to tell the Clavers to keep their helmets on, which they seemed to grasp. Then I marched out onto the rocky slopes of the mountain with Harris’ armored platoon at my back. Counting the Claver companies, we were about two hundred strong.

My first move was to march back to the breach at the bottom of the wall. I didn’t want Tau soldiers to slip through our lines at that easy entry point, while we were still shell-shocked.

Arriving at the base of the wall, we were met with a grievous sight. Sprawled all over the melted snows were the heavy troopers that had been left outside our bunker.

Not all of them were outright dead. They were a tough breed, after all. But at least half of them were face down in the bubbling mud that had once been a snowbank. Some of the rest of them were blind and helpless.

“The light burned them,” Kivi said. “We should have taken them into the shelter with us.” She looked at me reproachfully.

“Come on, girl,” I said. “We couldn’t have done that. There wasn’t any room. Hell, I don’t think they would have even fit through the bunker’s doorway.”

She wasn’t happy about my answer, but she didn’t argue with my words because she couldn’t.

After marching among the troops, I had to personally put down seventeen of them, but we managed to give medical care to another twenty or so. The rest were dead.

“That’s not bad at all,” I lied. “We’ve got a full platoon left, and they’re all in fighting shape. I’ll report in to Graves.”

Primus Graves didn’t take my news very well. “You mean your unit sat in an underground bunker while multiple companies of Blood Worlders perished right under your nose? And you did nothing to save them? I know you don’t like aliens McGill, but this is unconscionable.

“Huh?”

Graves glared up at me out of his tapper. “Don’t even try to play dumb with me. You knew what you were doing when you abandoned those men at their posts.”

“Sir, they wouldn’t fit in the bunker! I couldn’t—”

Graves waved away my protests. “I don’t want to hear excuses. Here’s your new mission: babysit the survivors. You’re in command of all Clavers and the surviving Blood Worlders at the southern redoubt—their squid commander is dead anyway.”

“Uh… thanks a bunch, sir,” I said, but he was already gone.

Sucking up all my swearing and misgivings, I walked among the Blood Worlders. I had to kill a few more while we patched up the rest. Altogether, I managed to put about forty of them into service. It would have to do.

Once the cooked bodies were removed, I decided it was a good time to do some trenching. There hadn’t been much point when the ground had been frozen solid. But now, with the big thaw temporarily in effect, the surface dirt could be scraped away.

We found three pigs that could still operate and put them to use. Pretty soon, the noisy drones were shoveling and drilling into what amounted to half-melted permafrost. The Blood Worlders tried to help, but they just ended up breaking their shovels and blunting their cutlasses. The dirt was too hard and frozen just a few inches down.

“Nice looking speed-bump you’ve got there,” Harris commented, laughing at my meager trench.

This pissed me off, so I sent his heavies into the shallow ditch with their force-blades out. Harris was soon lamenting every joke and sneer he’d ever given one of his bigger cousins.

About half an hour passed. During that time, I saw what looked like sparklers falling from the sky in the distance, out past the dome. Downslope, the enemy ships were landing and deploying troops. It was only a matter of time until they reached us.

The forests and snowfields we’d struggled through when attacking this stronghold were both pretty much gone. It was a blasted wasteland outside the dome. We’d lost a number of lifters and troops out there, too. The Tau should be able to march here pretty fast.

Urging my ragtag army to greater effort, I watched as my speed bump grew to a hump, then a meter-high hill. There wasn’t much time left, but I figured we might as well do what we could.

-47-

The Tau are a strange species. They’re humanoid, but smaller than Earthmen. Normally, they aren’t known for marching in armies. Only when they’d had their brains addled back on Tech World had they managed to gather the strength and organization to attack in concert.

Today seemed like another rare exception to their usual reluctance to fight. We knew without asking what had prompted the change.

“They’re here for the money, aren’t they?” Carlos asked. He was earning his pay today, patching up Blood Worlders who mostly had sunburns from the fusion warheads the Tau had showered us with. Those who had been wise enough to hide in the breach directly under the wall made up the majority of the survivors. Despite the fact he was being useful at last, practicing his medical skill, he still wasn’t happy. “Those greedy little bastards...” he muttered half to himself.

“I reckon you’re right,” I said. “Your average Tau will do almost anything for a Galactic credit. These boys have turned mercenary on the promise of cashing in—that said, we’re doing the same damned thing they are.”

Carlos didn’t seem to hear the last thing I said. He was fixated on making our enemy as evil as possible. I guess that was only natural. “Treasure hunters, that’s what they are,” he complained as he wrapped up a Blood Worlder’s burnt fingers. “Well, good luck down here in the dirt, McGill. Leeson is asking for me to help with some scratches his boys suffered up top.”

He turned away, but a heavy hand in a thick gauntlet landed on his shoulder. He stopped with a grunt and looked up at me.

“What?” he asked.

“Not so fast, Specialist Ortiz. I’m overriding Leeson. You’re staying down here with me.”

“Seriously? This isn’t payback for some of those comments I made, is it?”

I shook my head. “Nah. I just figure we’re going to be taking more casualties down here, so we need you more than Leeson does. The Blood Worlders, for instance, don’t have a single medic in their group.”

“I’m one lucky bastard then, aren’t I?”

“That’s what I always say. You go find a hole and crouch in it. The enemy is on the way here.”

Grumbling about grudges and permadeath, Carlos found a trench as far back from the wall and the dome as he could. He squatted in there like a toad in a pothole. I couldn’t blame him for that. He was wearing no armor and carrying nothing more than a snap-rifle. His kind weren’t expected to be frontline fighters.

About twenty minutes later, when my makeshift wall was a meter high and the hole behind it was about the same in depth—the Tau appeared.

At first, their assault was kind of pathetic. Little guys came trotting through the dome with lightning guns in their hands. That was the typical weapon they liked to use. Lightning guns were energy weapons with a short range and only about thirty seconds of firepower—but they hit hard.

Before any of the first ragged line of individuals so much as got off a shot, snap-rifles from above us had pretty much wiped them out. We had the range, the accuracy, experience, and surprise on our side. The Tau melted and soon ran back out of the dome. They left half their number twitching on the melted snow, which was now transforming into icy mud.

“Good job, troops!” I whooped and hollered. I carried on like we’d won the pennant. My adjuncts and some of the noncoms looked at me like I was crazy, but the Blood Worlders were fooled. They thumped their fists on their legs with approval, like gorillas who’d been trained to clap.

Ten minutes passed. During that time, I contacted Leeson.

“You okay up there, Adjunct?” I asked.

“ Right as rain, Centurion.”

“Any particular reason why you didn’t burn that line down with your 88s? You could have made a clean sweep.”

He laughed at me. “I’m engaging in the fine art of trickery, McGill. We don’t want to reveal our true firepower right off—not when we don’t need to in order to win. When they attack again, they’ll have underestimated us a second time. Just you watch.”

We didn’t have to wait long to test Leeson’s theories. The second wave came in, and this time they came in strength.

The second line of Tau was ragged but determined. They were spaced out about five meters apart, and they were rushing toward us headlong, ducking behind cover when they could find it. Right behind the first line, another line appeared. They were coming in real numbers now, and I wondered how many we’d see before they ran out of bodies to throw at our wall.

Leeson again held his fire, but Barton and her lights didn’t. Barton was up on top of the wall, and her troops were plinking away with deadly accuracy. They didn’t wipe out the Tau in a few seconds like they did last time, but they were still taking a grim toll on the attacking troops.

Crouching behind my trench-line, I bided my time. This was hard on both the Blood Worlders and the Claver-Threes. They sensed a fight was going on, and like watchdogs they wanted to wade into it. Since I was their commander, they cast me constant itchy glances. Every time I stood up or moved suddenly, they all became alert, ready to charge. I had to watch what signals I gave them. They were easily triggered.

At last, when five full ranks of Tau had penetrated the dome, Leeson’s 88s sang loudly. There were a few other units up there with him, so in all nearly ten 88s gushed deadly radiation.

I was impressed by the results. The Tau melted—hundreds of them did. They didn’t have a chance.

So sudden and unexpected was this blistering attack from above that the Tau lines immediately crumpled. The survivors—less than half of the troops involved—fell back. Thy exited the dome and disappeared.

Leeson came on the line, and he was laughing in my headset. “How’d you like that, Centurion?”

“Better,” I admitted. “Much better. I don’t think we’ve taken a casualty yet.”

“We probably won’t. These Tau are amateurs.”

I disconnected, hoping he was right. A few more long minutes passed. Graves checked in, asking how I was holding out. I assured him we hadn’t been challenged yet.

“Good to hear. What about their siege-tower things? Not giving you any trouble?”

I blinked and fell silent for a second. “Siege-towers?”

“Yes. Big things covered with black armor and gun turrets.”

“Oh… uh… haven’t seen any of those yet.”

“You will. They’re rolling on the other two walls right now. Since you’ve got the breach to contend with, I’ll send you two more units of fresh troops.”

“That’d be mighty considerate of you, sir.”

Graves was gone again. He had a lot to coordinate, so I understood. It was funny how he often led ops when it came down to actual battles. Sure, there were usually other officers around who outranked him, but they all seemed to know who the best ball-carrier on the team really was.

Right about then, something freaky-looking broke through the dome. It was tall—about thirty meters tall in fact, and it rolled on treads. It was covered in black armor that I recognized right off—because I was wearing some of the same stuff.

The armored monstrosity trundled toward our half-broken wall at a sedate pace. Behind and around it, perhaps a thousand Tau ran across icy mud, bodies and burnt tree stumps.

The Tau siege-tower had appeared, and I had no doubt of its intentions. It was built to break through our walls. Possibly it was a sheer coincidence, but I was surprised to see the tower was just tall enough to reach the top of our wall.

Hmm…

That simple fact gave me a pang of worry. These Tau… how had they known they were going to have to break through a wall? And where in the hell had they gotten black Rigellian armor?

Obviously, the Tau had been tipped off about this stronghold and the local Claver defenses. The height and nature of these siege towers made that much very clear.

Did that mean the enemy had someone on the inside? If so, that someone had to be one of the Clavers. No one just “whipped up” a stack of siege towers on a whim. They’d built these before they’d ever lifted off into space from their home world.

Harris was banging on my shoulder, so I gave him my attention.

“Centurion! You see that bullshit? Who gave these fuckers magic armor like yours? All our small-arms fire is bouncing right off that frigging thing!”

I saw immediately that he was right. Power bolts, snap-rifle rounds, sizzling beams from belchers—it was all bouncing off. The surface of the tower, which tapered somewhat at the top, smoked and puffed white when we hit it—but we weren’t blasting holes in it. We weren’t affecting it at all.

My mind accelerated. I knew already we were in trouble. Experienced soldiers always had a sixth sense for these things, and my sorry excuse for a brain was tingling like mad.

I envisioned the next few minutes. The tower was going to roll right on up to the wall, and then it was going to drop a ramp or something. From that lofty perch, attackers would flood onto the wall top. With only lights and specialists up there, Leeson was going to be in trouble.

“Leeson,” I called, “light that thing up with your 88s. Don’t wait for the perfect moment!”

“We’re firing on it, sir. You see those slashing stripes of steam on the midsection—that’s us.”

“Holy shit… it’s not working.”

“Don’t I know it, Centurion.”

I thought hard for another spare second. The oversized lightning guns that poked out of the tower were swiveling now, coming to life. They moved this way and that with an eerie intelligence. They might be driven by AI or Tau—I couldn’t tell which.

“Leeson! Forget the siege tower, hit the troops on the ground. We’ll worry about the tower ourselves.”

“You’ve got it, McGill.”

He sounded freaked out, but he was also game. He was in the fight to the finish. Unlike Harris, Leeson didn’t try to run off all the time.

About then, the first lightning gun on the tower lit up. It fired down onto our trench from an angle. Dirt and troops exploded everywhere. Apparently, we were inside enemy range now.

“Troops,” I roared, “focus fire on the Tau around and behind that siege tower. Harris, form up your heavies on me.”

Harris rushed to my side and took a knee, breathing hard. “What are we going to do, sir?”

“We’re going to take down that tower. We’ll invading it from the base, if possible. Then we’ll fight our way up to the cockpit—or whatever drives this monster.”

“I’m kind of sorry I asked, sir. Ready, sir.”

I looked at Harris. He looked at me. We both had wide eyes, and our breathing was coming out in fast puffs. We knew we were probably going to die in the next few minutes.

You get a feel for moments like this after a few hundred deaths.

-48-

The 88s sang above us, clearing out the enemy troops huddled around the siege tower. The Tau infantry was broken again, sent racing away back toward the dome. They ran for their lives, leaving hundreds behind who’d been turned to ash.

That’s when I led the charge to meet the siege tower, which hadn’t stopped rolling closer. When we got to the back side of it, Kivi blew the hatch open, and I sent a few Clavers in first.

That didn’t go so well. Only one man came back out, reeling, with his helmet gone and his face half-missing. The other two were just corpses.

“Holy shit! Fire in the hole!” Harris shouted, tossing in a grenade. We ducked aside and the interior lit up with a blue flash.

We rushed in afterward and met up with an unpleasant surprise—several flattened Rigelian bears. As they were wearing armor like mine, they weren’t dead. The shock had messed them up, though.

“Get them while they’re stunned,” I ordered, offering no quarter.

We grabbed their limbs and twisted, we ripped off helmets and fed them force-blades. Harris had one of the heavy shotguns developed for the purpose of killing men in such armor, and he pressed it against bellies and unloaded. It wasn’t pretty, but in the end, we got it done.

Standing with our sides heaving from exertion, Harris and I exchanged worried glances.

“If this whole tower is full of bears, McGill… that’s bad. That’s real bad.”

I nodded in agreement. “Take the rest of the Clavers upstairs. Lead by tossing a grenade into every hatchway you force open. I’m calling Graves.”

It took a few minutes, but at last, I got through.

“McGill? You’d better be reporting that you’ve held your wall, soldier.”

“We mostly have, sir. The Tau aren’t inside the walls yet.”

“Good, good. I haven’t got time for congratulations—”

“Hold on, Primus. I’ve got some bad news.” I told him then about bears running the tower—and he did a bit of swearing.

“Are you sure about this, McGill?”

I showed him my tapper feed. His cursing and carrying on got a little worse after that.

“All right. Destroy that tower—kill everything in it. Then get back to your post at the base of the wall and hold out.”

“Sir, we never got the reinforcements you promised us earlier. We can’t hold against another attack like this one. If they have more towers, more bears…”

“Your reinforcement column was diverted to the west wall. Tau reached the top of it and swept it clear—I had no choice.”

“Damn it, Primus. Can I remind you that we’ve got a hole in our wall? Whoever is holding the west must be an idiot.”

“Maybe… or maybe your hole actually helped your efforts. The Tau were clearly not expecting an attack at the base of their tower. You surprised them, and you managed to get inside. I’m going to have to relay new tactical recommendations to the other fronts.”

“You do that, sir. In the meantime, can you send me some more troops?”

Graves hesitated. “The center is getting weak, McGill. If any of the walls are taken, we might not be able to hold. If the center goes, we’re all dead.”

“I understand, Primus. It’s your call.”

“All right… I’m sending you some special units… there. Done. You should have relief in about fifteen minutes or less.”

Fifteen minutes? That was pretty fast to cover a muddy landscape, especially when you were marching uphill. I had to wonder who and what he had sent—but I didn’t bother to ask. After all, whatever it was, I would be grateful for the help.

“One more thing before you go, Primus,” I said. “What do you make of the fact that troops from Rigel are in on this?”

“It actually answers some questions we’ve been hashing out at headquarters. The Tau don’t have invasion ships—not that we know of, anyway. This entire attack is a surprise. Sure, they’re greedy bastards, but having a motive isn’t the same as having the military capability.”

“Right… so you think they asked the bears for help? That they cut them in on the deal?”

“They must have. They probably plan to split the loot with them. The Tau are providing the cannon fodder, while Rigel is providing the spacecraft and the heavy hardware. It’s a diabolical plot, and it might just win through.”

“Any new orders, sir?” I asked.

“No. Destroy the tower and hold the wall at all costs! Graves out.”

He was gone again. I lowered my tapper and eyed the hatchway in the ceiling. It was kind of small for a man—but a bear could fit easily. Upstairs, there’d been quite a ruckus while I talked to Graves.

“Harris?” I called. “You alive up there?”

There was no answer. I frowned in concern. “Kivi? Get in here.”

She popped her nose in the door from the outside and looked around warily. “No more bears?”

“I’m not sure. Send some buzzers up there to look around.”

While she deployed her drones, I gathered another assault team. This consisted of Sargon leading four wide-eyed Claver-Threes.

“Sir?” Kivi said. “Um… there’s a lot of death above us.”

She showed me some vids on her tapper. The tower was divided into floors, each of which was about six meters across. The floors seemed to get smaller as you went up. On the second floor, we saw more dead bears. On the third floor, however, the story changed.

“We’ve got one dead bear on the third,” Kivi said. “That’s confirmed. Unfortunately, Harris and all his troops are dead there as well. The next hatch on the way up is closed and sealed. Worse, the whole machine is still moving—but slowly.”

When we’d first attacked the siege tower, the forward motion had stopped. Now, whoever was driving it seemed determined. They planned to reach the wall, and I thought that over, showing the scene to Sargon. “They got wise and counterattacked Harris. He’s dead.”

Sargon grinned. “Harris is going to be so pissed at you, Centurion.”

“That’s just too damned bad. You’re going up to replace him. One grenade per level as you climb—and when you reach Harris and his dead team, report back to me.”

Sucking in an unhappy breath, he nodded and moved toward the ladder. I yanked him back, and he frowned at my hand on his bicep.

“Send the Clavers first,” I advised, nodding to the staring trio that surrounded us. Smiling at them, I raised my voice. “I always like to send my best men in first!”

This was met with slack-jawed stares. I had no idea if they’d bought my lie or rejected it—I don’t think it mattered much either way.

Sargon dutifully sent the Clavers in first. When they didn’t drop dead immediately, he followed. Soon, they were working on the hatch to the fourth floor.

“It’s stuck, or locked—or something.”

Cursing, I turned to Kivi. “Blow it open.”

She smiled. “I’ve got something better.”

She dug in her kit and pulled out a specialized buzzer. It was bigger, sleeker, and it had a tapered point on the nosecone. I watched as she deployed it. The freaky thing was soon drilling on the locked hatch. It squealed and made grinding noises as it dug into the metal.

A small charge was deposited, and the hatchway popped open.

Sargon tossed a grenade into the chamber beyond—but it bounced back out. The men dove for the exit, which was the other hatchway down to my level. Even the Clavers seemed wild with fear. Dumb or not, they knew what a plasma grenade was.

In the end, none of them made it out alive. They were all blown apart and after a bit of crawling and moaning, they died.

“Shit…” I said with feeling. “Kivi, have you got a floater on you?”

She blinked in surprise. “A floater? I do… but it’s only small one. It can’t lift more than about fifty kilos.”

“Overclock the actuator. One burst of thrust, that’s all I need.”

She looked at me with big eyes. “You’re going up there alone, sir? That’s crazy.”

“If we don’t get this done, we lose. Rig your floater and make it fast.”

We watched as bear paws occasionally dipped into the chamber and tried to close the hatch again. We fired bolts into that hatch, making it spark and jump. Kivi’s buzzer had wrecked the latch, and the hatch wouldn’t seal, so they gave up eventually.

“If I don’t miss my guess, the Rigelians will put one man right there on the other side of that hatch, watching for any kind of attack, he’ll be ready to block us.”

“How do you know it’s just one bear?”

“I don’t, but it makes sense. Someone has to be driving this thing and the turrets outside.”

Right about then, a Claver walked in and made a valiant attempt to tell me something. “Sir… walkers coming.”

“Walkers?”

“Yes. Walking things. Outside. Many walkers.”

Concerned, I brushed the diligent soldier away and looked outside.

What I saw there made my blood run cold. A vast skirmish line of Tau troops had emerged, walking through the dome together. There had to be a hundred, maybe more. A few seconds later a second wave followed the first. It was a whole cohort of them, by the looks of things.

Craning my neck, I looked up at the wall top. Our troops up there had pretty much been wiped out by the lightning gun turrets. I’d have expected to see enemy troops up there, but I didn’t.

Apparently, the Tau we’d killed with the 88s and small arms fire had been the men they’d intended to send up through this tower to take the walls. The bears could have done it, I supposed, but there weren’t very many of them left, and they had to operate the turrets and the tower itself.

“The bears are trying to do this on the cheap,” I said. “They’re using Tau as cannon fodder and hoping for minimal casualties on Rigel’s side. We’re going to have to change their expectations, pronto.”

The Clavers who listened to this little speech stared at me without comment or comprehension.

Turning away, I reached for Kivi. She was still fooling around with a disk and some power lines that looked like a tram’s jumper cables.

“It’s got to work right now,” I told her.

“I don’t know if it will work at all, Centurion. It’s not even fully charged.”

“I don’t care. Hand it over.”

She did so with obvious misgivings. I took the thing and put it on the floor. Stepping onto the small, flat disk, I immediately frowned in concern.

“It’s pretty damned small,” I complained. “Not much bigger than a dinner plate.”

“I told you, this is a crazy idea.”

“Just power it up and let me—”

Without warning, the disk pressed up against my boots. I almost did a flip, but then, whooping and hollering, I rode the thing up through the first hatch.

It was a good thing I’d wasted a lot of time during my misspent youth riding anti-grav devices. Ever since the Tech World campaign, in fact, such alien gear had fascinated me.

It was all a matter of leaning and balance. You couldn’t really drive it in an organized fashion. You had to do it all with your legs.

Going through the first hatch was the worst part. The opening was kind of narrow to begin with, and I was rising at an angle. I almost caught the rim of the floater-disk and flipped over.

Stabilizing myself with bent knees and some bad words, I managed to get it tilted in the direction of the second opening. Up there, everything looked kind of dark.

At the last second, as I burst through the hole, I saw a single wide eye circled by thick hair. The bear dude seemed kind of stunned, if I read the expression correctly.

He was game, however. He tackled me as I burst through and knocked me off my floater. The disk went sailing across the chamber, caroming off the walls and making an awful racket.

The bear clung to my midsection, and he went to town with teeth, claws, and a powerful pistol. I want to attest that if I hadn’t been wearing my best armor, he’d have gutted me right then and there.

But as it was, he couldn’t penetrate the spongy black stuff. Using leverage that sometimes comes with being bigger and heavier than your opponent, I straight-armed him and sent him flying ass-over-tea kettle down the hole in the floor. It was a good shot, if I do say so myself.

A wild melee erupted downstairs. I heard Kivi screeching, and several excited Clavers grunting and scrabbling like dogs digging out a rat. They beat him and shot him and eventually pulled his helmet off. There was blood, noise and fur everywhere.

Looking around, I saw the chamber I was in was empty. Instead of one hatch in the ceiling, however, there were two additional exits. Both of them were on opposite sides of the chamber, and I grinned when I saw them shift and move mechanically.

I’d found the lowest row of turrets, and I’d apparently caught the bear operators unaware.

-49-

The next part of the operation was the most fun I’d had in a week’s time. I yanked open the hatch to my right and ripped a bear out of the compartment inside.

He was shocked, he took a second to figure out what was happening. Then he jumped me, snarling. His headset was ripped and hanging. His eyes were raging, and his teeth were showing—but he was screwed.

The problem for him was my armor. I was wearing the kind of impenetrable stuff we’d learned how to make from these same bears. Since he was just a tech, a softie rather than a combat specialist, he didn’t have armor of any kind on his hairy carcass.

It still took me a solid thirty seconds of slamming fists and stabbing with my combat knife to finish him. These damned bears were always tough, fast and mean. Being an outright predator species, they had a natural advantage against humans. We were monkey-types, after all. We humans had adapted to killing, but we weren’t as dedicated to the art as were true apex hunters like these Rigellian bears.

Standing and breathing hard, I called down to the lower levels of the tower for more Clavers and a few noncoms. I told them how to kill the bears in the turrets, and while they climbed up the ladders to help me I tried to get into the turret I dragged the bear out of.

Stuffing myself into the tiny space proved hopeless. A two meter tall human just couldn’t fit into a space built for a one meter tall bear. I finally reached out a long arm and hooked Kivi around the waist as she sauntered by. She complained, but I scooped her up and stuffed her into the turret.

“My ass doesn’t fit this chair!”

“Too bad. Just sit with one cheek off to the side—yeah, like that.”

She looked like a mom who’d climbed into a kiddie-car, but she could make the turret operate. It was simple enough to spin, and the big metal triggers—

Ka-zap!

A brilliant bolt shot out of the turret. It made us both squint and jump.

“That was cool,” I said. “But instead of burning a line on our wall, how about you swivel that thing around and scorch the fresh load of Tau that are swarming up from the south?”

Alarmed, Kivi spun the turret in jerks and stops to aim down and off to the south. Sure enough, the ground was crawling with Tau. They looked like lemmings, and they were all charging for the hole in the base of wall.

“Fire!” I shouted.

Kivi kind of squeaked, but she jerked the triggers again. A smoking hole two meters deep appeared. None of the enemy were hit, but they were diving away in alarm.

“No, no,” I complained. “You have to turn the turret at the same time as you fire—draw a line across the enemy formation.”

She tried it, and a dozen Tau were blasted to fragments.

“Ha!” she shouted. “I got them!”

“Keep going. Don’t stop.”

By this time, the other turret had been emptied of its Rigellian gunner, and I installed another girl—a bio this time. She was spooked, but she soon caught on to the process.

Unfortunately, the Tau were figuring things out, too. They swarmed the base of the siege tower, looking for a way in.

“Uh-oh…” I said, and I rushed for the ladders to get down to the bottom of the siege tower. “Clavers, on me!”

I led them down to the bottom of the tower. Reaching the lowest chamber, we fought dirty. We stood to either side of the doorway, and as the enemy rushed in, we snatched them, dragged them into the dark and murdered them.

Soon the Tau stopped coming in the door. Instead, they lashed the opening with bolts from their own lightning guns. We stood well back and grimaced, squinting as the glaringly bright bolts flashed in now and then. When they struck metal, I could feel a shock come right through my armor. The Clavers felt it too, and they hooted in pain and despair.

Above us, the turrets kept rotating and blasting Tau. This didn’t last long, however. The Tau weren’t serious soldiers, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out where the death was being dispensed from. The Tau troops managed to concentrate their fire and destroy the two turrets we’d commandeered. Kivi and the bio girl were both killed.

“Damnation,” I breathed. “Looks like we’ve lost the south wall.”

I reached for my tapper, planning to contact Graves. He had to be informed. We were pinned down in here, and I had no more than a handful of troops left. The few men I’d left behind in the trenches wouldn’t be able to hold back this latest wave of Tau infantry, of that much I was certain.

Before I could touch my tapper and make the fateful call however, I saw something new happening outside on the scarred battlefield.

Squinting, I peered out into the daylight, seeing a series of bright, bright flashes. Whatever was going on, it was leaving afterimages on my retinas. I was baffled at first, but then I thought hard. When had I seen that kind of weaponry before? It looked kind of like a belcher, but the angle and intensity were wrong… It was kind of like a cross between a belcher and an 88, if I had to guess.

Then I had it. Only one kind of fighter carried a gun like that—giants. Graves had finally sent the reinforcements he’d promised me ten long minutes ago, and they were arriving just in time.

The giants were Blood Worlder behemoths, the biggest form of humanity to ever have been bred for war. Graves had released his 2nd giant platoon, some of our best troops.

Their energy weapons fired bright beams that swept the Tau out of existence. All of a sudden, the head-long rush of Tau surrounding the tower halted. In fact, it reversed.

They stopped lashing bolts at the hatchway. They had bigger problems. They were stumbling back, dying, looking upward in terror.

Grinning, I grabbed my morph-rifle and shouldered it. Then I switched the selector to full-auto. It was time for some payback.

The last members of my shredded command sallied out of the broken siege engine behind a wave of giants. The big bad-ass humans were freaky to watch. They weren’t too smart—but they didn’t have to be.

Standing six meters or more in height, they had thicker legs than a normally proportioned human and smaller heads. That was all due to physics—you needed huge bones and muscles to move that kind of weight around, and bigger brains would only have gotten in the way of their purpose.

Striding with calm contempt, they carried beam projectors and massive generators on their backs. These power supplies served two purposes: they fueled the projectors and also formed a glassy, shell-like shield around each of the giants.

The Tau fired at these terrors, giving ground and backpedalling in fear. Their lightning guns caused the giants’ personal shields to flicker and buzz—but they held.

In return, the giants swept them away with wide gushes of energy. To me, they looked like troops carrying flamethrowers. The Tau melted away to ash at the slightest touch, and they soon broke and ran.

In between the giants, my team and I caught opportunities to sneak in a shot. We gunned the runners down at range, whooping and hollering as they died.

It was exhilarating. If you’ve ever fought to the death and then been given an unexpected reprieve at your darkest moment, you know what I mean.

We showed the Tau no quarter, running them off the battlefield—and that’s when I realized we still had a problem.

One of the giants had gotten ahead of the others. He plunged into the dome and vanished. Then a second monster excitedly followed him and did the same.

These behemoths weren’t easy to control. When they got their bloodlust up, they became wild with excitement and charged after runners.

“Hold!” I roared after them. “2nd Platoon, fall back! Stop, boys! Let them go!”

The giants weren’t listening. I ran after them but halted at the edge of the dome. Around me were a dozen panting Clavers. They looked bewildered and bone-tired.

I knew I should turn and go back. But if I did that, if I withdrew to the safety of the siege tower—which was now burning and sending up a column of black smoke into the ruddy sky—I would be abandoning the giants. They’d run after the Tau until they killed them all, or they perished themselves.

Lifting my tapper, I pecked out a quick message and sent it—then I plunged into the glassy shield of the dome without waiting for a reply.

My text message said: Graves, Tau broken, I’m following the giants outside—McGill.

That was it. He would have to figure out the rest, and whether or not he was going to do anything about it. My only worry was that I was possibly perming myself, but it wasn’t a powerful concern, just a nagging thing in the back of my mind.

After all, I’d lived a long, long time already. Maybe it was my day to go out.

-50-

The Clavers followed me right out of their safety zone under the dome. Say what you will about their dim-bulb brains and ugly faces, they were loyal to their leaders. That was more than I could say about half the troops in Legion Varus.

Outside the dome, the landscape was hellish. Before it had been frozen and wild, full of pines, snow and fresh scents. All of that had vanished. The air was thick with acrid smoke. The ground itself was blasted and baked. Even a few boulders had cracked open like eggs. The Tau had released so much energy trying to crush our dome that the very dirt outside was radioactive. Even the air shimmered in places with residual heat.

The giants were well ahead of me, racing after the Tau and knocking the black, broken trees flat. Each of their massive footsteps sent up a puff of gray ash.

“God damn if this isn’t Hell’s own kitchen,” I said, looking around and testing my dosimeter. We were taking some rads all right, but not enough to cook us. “Let’s have ourselves a quick look-around, boys.” I gestured to the sorry-looking Clavers I’d brought with me. “Maybe we can round up these giants when they get tired.”

We advanced cautiously, and I recorded all the while. If nothing else, I could take the data back to Graves for brownie points. I knew he’d be pissed about losing his giants, and he was certain to blame me for letting them run off—although I had no idea how I could have stopped them.

“Look over there… is that a landing ship?” I pointed due south of the dome, where a hump of metal could be seen among the crispy branches.

The Tau drop ship was an ugly thing. It was aerodynamic only in the sense that a snail’s shell was. The ship was roundish, lumpy and built without art or careful science. I got the feeling the Tau had slapped it together out of spare parts, using anything they had that was curved and contoured in nature.

“The Tau are running straight for that ship,” I told my bewildered pack of Clavers. “Let’s follow the giants.”

Picking up the pace, I began to run downslope. Behind me, the Clavers humped and pumped in my wake. They weren’t sleek or light of foot, but they could get up and move when they felt like it.

The giants caught up with the Tau, scooping up squalling little humanoids and crushing the life out of them with fists the size of basketballs. Invariably, they threw the body after the others who fled and then thundered in pursuit of fresh game.

The Tau never turned to make a stand. They weren’t real troops, after all. They’d been taught to line up and fire their weapons, but that was about it. Faced with terrors like Blood Worlder giants, all they could do was run for their lives.

When the chase reached the foot of the landing craft, things became interesting. A single nozzle rose from the roof of the spaceship. I knew in an instant what it had to be.

“Troops! Take out that turret! Giants, Clavers—fire on my mark!”

I used my HUD system to mark the deadly looking gun turret, but the giants and the Clavers mostly ignored it. A few of the giants tossed beams in that direction. A few Clavers hammered out a stream of projectiles downslope at it—but the turret wasn’t destroyed.

After watching it pulse brighter and brighter for a moment, I gritted my teeth and made a hard decision.

“Clavers! Dive for cover! Take cover, troops!”

Even with this clear order ringing in the air, they did nothing but falter in their headlong charge until I fell on my belly in the ash. Then they finally followed my example. All around me were puffs of gray dust and grunting, confused soldiers.

The pulsing gun turret released its payload at last. Essentially, it was a giant lightning gun, and when the blast came, it wasn’t a disappointment. A massive multi-pronged bolt lanced out from the tip, striking the ground a few hundred meters away in a dozen places.

Tau, giants, burnt trees and rocks the size of pickups were blown apart and tossed skyward in burning fragments. I was impressed. I hadn’t known the basic Tau weaponry was scalable.

The giants who survived this shower of electric bolts stood for a moment, dumbfounded by this unexpected development. It had been all fun and games to pluck limbs off the helpless fleeing Tau, but now things were suddenly different.

Hooting and croaking in dismay, they reeled back and stumbled over the rough ground. Some had the presence of mind to fire their weapons at the gun turret, and a few tossed the flopping bodies of Tau in the ship’s general direction—but neither approach was effective.

When half their number had been destroyed, along with most of the Tau, the giants finally turned tail and ran. They thundered back upslope toward our position.

“Stay down!” I commanded my Clavers. “Keep your heads down on the ground!”

We waited for a dozen heartbeats. Twice more during that time, the lightning turret gushed energy. Bolts flew farther upslope each time, chasing the fleeing giants.

At last, the Blood Worlders reached our position and passed over us in a wild rush. Two Clavers were stepped on, one had his spine broken. He crawled grotesquely in the burning dirt.

After the giants had rushed over my handful of men, I stood and chased after them. All around me, terrified dumbasses ran for their lives. Even the most ignorant of men bred for the purpose of war could be terrorized by unfamiliar weaponry.

When I managed to stumble back through the dome at last, I laughed until I had an explosive coughing fit. When that passed, I laughed some more. I was just so glad to be alive.

“McGill?” my tapper demanded. “McGill? Where did you go? I lost your signal for eleven minutes.”

It was Graves. If anyone could count the time away from your post down to the nanosecond, it was my beloved primus.

“Sir, I’ve got good news. We drove back the Tau and chased them all the way to their drop ship outside the dome.”

“Outside the dome? Who authorized such a radical advance?”

“The giants did, sir, when they ran off like jackrabbits.”

About ten seconds of silence followed this statement, and I optimistically began to theorize that Graves had moved on with his day—but it wasn’t to be.

“I see thirty-five missing giants, McGill. What kind of insanity did you get into? Where are my giants?”

“Uh… I’m sure most of them are right outside the dome having their nails done, sir. I’m not in charge of those monsters—no one is. Not completely.”

“Wrong. I’ve released my reserve platoons before without losing half of them in a single ill-advised charge. I can see why Armel hated you so much back on Storm World.”

“Harsh words, Primus. Harsh words,” I said, but I was talking to dead air. He’d disconnected and moved on.

Walking all the way back to the broken siege tower, which sat in the midst of the monstrous hole I’d blown in the wall itself, I took stock of the battlefield. As I calculated the dead and compared casualty rates, I began to grin. I grinned hugely.

“We cleaned their clocks! There must be ten dead Tau for every man who’s face down on our side. They can’t sustain those kinds of losses. Whatever you’re doing men, you’re doing it right.”

Most of them stared at me without comprehension. A few were humans who understood what I was saying, but they didn’t seem as elated as I was. The handful of giants that stood with grime-covered faces and blank expressions grunted and pointed in random directions, clearly bewildered.

I ignored them all and whooped at the sky. As far as I was concerned, we’d won the day. The best part was I hadn’t even died yet.

-51-

Tired and dragging our feet, the survivors streamed down from the southern ramparts toward the central village. Fresh columns of Clavers, Blood Worlders and a unit from Legion Varus marched the other way.

A broad-shouldered man wearing a centurion’s crest pumped his fist at me, then gave me the finger. It was Centurion Manfred, a rare fellow officer who enjoyed my style and shared my understanding of right and wrong.

“Hey Manfred, don’t let your boys piss themselves. We cleaned things up for you.”

“Is that what you call it? Your lot looks knackered to me.”

“Uh… that sounds about right. I need a beer and a cot.”

He laughed and waved me onward. We trudged to the central collection of tents, bunkers and buildings. In the first tent I entered, I found a cot with a one-legged man lying on it. He was a tech, and he was playing a game on his tapper.

With a rude hand, I shoved him off into the dirt.

“Hey… Centurion!? I’m still on break, waiting for my new leg.”

“New leg? Shut up, or I’ll recycle you. That way you’ll have a fresh leg in half an hour.”

Grumbling, he left the tent with a crutch under his arm and a lot of bad words under his breath. I didn’t get upset about his disrespect. If the bio people changed their minds about his new limb, he’d learn what being sorry really meant soon enough.

The second my face hit the cot, I was out.

* * *

A few hours later I was awakened by a lingering touch on my spine.

Waking up a Varus man in a weird way was never advisable. I lurched up with a snort, slinging drool and cracking open bleary eyes. I spun around, snatching at something skinny that had dared to touch me.

To my surprise, I saw a tiny figure bounding away. “Big man is awake!” he said in a high-pitched voice. “He’s awake, brothers and sisters!”

It was a gremlin, a tiny man-like creature that also came from Blood World. He’d been standing on my back in my sleep, doing God-knew-what. Others of his kind peered in under the flap of my tent.

I hated this particular breed of Blood Worlder more than any of the others. Gremlins were tricky, fast, and wicked in the mind.

“Who are you?” I asked the creature. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m Ankou, and I serve the legions just as you do, you great oaf. I could have killed you in your sleep, you know. It would have been so easy...”

Sitting up relatively slowly, I lifted a hand to yawn dramatically. The gremlin eyed me as I did this. His face was full of amusement and evil thoughts.

Then I snatched the pillow from the cot and slung it at him with my off hand. I’d been reaching for it while pretending to wake up. Guessing he’d reflexively jump for the exit, I threw for the crack under the flap. The other gremlins vanished—but not Ankou. The pillow caught him in midair and knocked him flat.

Laughing hard, I stood with my hands on my hips. “That was really funny, huh?” I asked him.

Ankou bounced away from the pillow, sputtering. He rubbed the back of his skull where it had hit the ground with force. Pillows could be dangerous when they’re bigger than you are.

“Very funny, big man,” he said. “I’m an HR representative for the legions, and I’ll remember you.”

“I’ve already got you memorized, you little weasel. HR, huh? Tell me what you want.”

“I’m here to escort you to a court of peers.”

“Uh… a what?” I asked.

“A martial court, imbecile. Your officer, Primus Graves, approved the request while you snored and farted for hours.”

I snatched up a second pillow, but before I could toss it at him, he vanished.

His words made me frown as I turned them over in my mind. A court? A court of peers? What the hell was this about?

My first move was probably a bad one. I contacted Primus Graves.

“Uh… sir? What’s this about me reporting to a court of some kind?”

“McGill? Why are you standing around in a tent? You’re late for your trial.”

“What…?”

“Get with the program, McGill. The Blood Worlders have a voice in events now. They’ve singled you out as an abuser. Get down to the main bunker and face the music. Just let them get it out of their system, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Sir…? Since when do the Blood Worlders get to prosecute a Varus officer for doing his job?”

Graves shook his head slowly. “You don’t get it, do you? Did you think that by perming Tribune Foam, your legitimate commander, you’d somehow avoid any kind of backlash? It doesn’t work that way, McGill. Not in a modern legion. Now, get to the court before you’re found in contempt. Here, I’ll mark the way for you on your tapper. Notice how the path goes nowhere near any bars.”

When he’d finally shut up, I considered having a shower. Yawning, I decided to skip this step, reducing it down to taking a piss and pulling on a fresh uniform. After sprucing up my hair and my breath, I finally made my way to the central bunker in the middle of Claver town.

The place was chockfull of freaks. There were all kinds of Blood Worlders and various Claver clones, too. Looming large at the entrance was a flock of angry-looking squids. I had to pass by them as I walked into the place with my chin held high.

The squids were cold-blooded and cold-eyed. They stared at me like I was lower than whale shit. Cephalopods had never had much of a reason to enjoy my company, mind you, but today they seemed downright bitter.

Right about then, I began to become concerned about the crowd. There were barely any real humans present. It was going to be hard to get justice from this group. They looked like jealous human-haters, one and all.

Hmm… this all seemed so typical of Legion Varus. I’d just fought long and hard on the front lines, saving the ass of everyone in this circus-tent, but instead of toasting to my honorable sacrifice, they were going to stage a show-trial. I almost wished I’d let Tribune Foam live instead of perming him under Galina’s orders.

With that thought in mind, I tried to reach her. Naturally, she wasn’t taking any calls. She’d probably heard about this situation and wanted no part of it. She’d thrown me to the wolves again.

Turning my attention back to the crowd, I spotted the one that was running the show. In the center of this gaggle of aliens, a singular freak stood on a red cushioned throne of sorts. He was unique among them due to his unusual nature: it was Ankou, the very gremlin who’d come to awaken me.

My eyes narrowed to slits. If there was one thing in this world that was worse than a squid, it had to be a gremlin.

“What are you doing here, Ankou?” I asked the little devil.

“Are you serious? Are you really so slow-brained? I see that you are… but beware, human, that’s no defense. Stupidity never absolved anyone of anything.”

“Yeah, well… you didn’t answer my question. Doesn’t that make you a moron, too?”

Ankou grinned at me with yellow-toothed wickedness. “I’m the judge here. This is my court. You’d best keep a civil tongue in your skull—or we might have to cut it out.”

My jaw went slack and hung low. “You’re the judge? Then why didn’t you send some kind of flunky down to wake me up? Why’d you do it yourself?”

“Before the trial, I wanted to examine the fiercesome ape who murdered Tribune Foam in cold blood. You did not disappoint. Grunting, rolling about on that stinking bed, awakening with a violent outburst… you were exactly what I expected to encounter.”

“Glad I could make you happy. So… how’s this little dog and pony show going to proceed?”

“I will appoint a prosecutor,” Ankou said. “Someone who understands the mistreatment of the nonhuman. Someone who is familiar with this case, and this defendant…”

Ankou hopped down from his red-pillowed throne and walked among the crowd. He paused in front of a gang of saurians I hadn’t noticed until now. He pointed into the group, and one of them stepped forward.

It was Raash. I would’ve known him anywhere. He was the only blue-scaled saurian of the raptor type in existence, and he didn’t look very happy.

“Step forward creature and state your name.”

“Hold on!” I objected. “Why did you bring Raash here? How did you even find him?”

“Your exploits are legendary, Centurion McGill,” Ankou said. “When I asked about non-humans you’ve abused in the past, many names were offered. This individual has a particularly grim tale to tell.”

I complained, but no one listened. At last, to shut me up, one of the big giants conked me one on the noggin. I was knocked to the ground, and I struggled to get back up on my feet.

“Thank you, Bailiff,” Ankou said. “Raash, proceed with your testimony.”

Raash proceeded all right. He told the gruesome story of being shanghaied by teleportation and melted down to a single finger in the process. Then he claimed I’d revived him in an incompatible body with illegal genetics. It was all true, of course, but I scoffed and rolled my eyes at him anyway.

When he was done talking at last, I opened my mouth to explain I’d done the best I could for an old acquaintance—but I wasn’t allowed to speak.

“Have a care, big man,” Ankou warned. “Whatever you say here can and will be used against you.”

My oversized mouth opened, and I paused while I considered Ankou’s warning. At last, I closed it again with a snap. After all, most of what Raash had said was the truth. If you went around trying to doctor up the truth, even to clarify it, you usually ended up sounding like a liar.

It was time for a new tactic.

“I’ve got a question for my old buddy Raash,” I said after taking a deep breath.

Ankou gestured with a sweeping arm. “By all means, ask your question.”

“Hey, Raash. Would you rather be alive or dead? Would you be happier if I’d left you as a greasy finger in my pocket? Permed forever?”

Raash didn’t answer right away. He seemed surprised by the question. “The subject of my misfortune isn’t important, McGill. It only serves as proof of your serial violations, which include the breakage of both civil and Galactic Law.”

“Exactly! I broke the law of man and Galactic alike to help you live again, and here you are bearing witness against me. It’s not right that you’re here complaining about me when I’m the only reason you’re breathing at all. So tell me: would you rather be dead?”

Raash glanced around the assembly, and they stared at him in return. Ankou seemed especially fascinated. His unblinking eyes shined with an intense light.

“Answer the question, reptile!” he barked suddenly.

Raash bristled. He didn’t like anyone shouting at him, especially not a pipsqueak like Ankou.

“Raash answers to no warm-blood. I’ve suffered at the hands of this beast, and I will prosecute him for his crimes. You need know nothing else. I’m not the one on trial here.”

Ankou nodded and marched around a bit as if thinking to himself. I could tell he was impressed by the Saurian’s responses, and my heart sank a little. Once you’ve been on trial enough times, you get to where you can smell an execution in your near future.

-52-

Raash knew me too well, and he took the wise precaution of having two Blood Worlder guards take custody of me. One stood to either side of me, holding a chain that led to one of my wrists. I looked like a kid in kid-prison between two monstrous jailors.

The Blood Worlder guards stank and drooled. All the while, the trial went on and on, as such things always do.

When asked, I explained that I’d been sent to do the dirty deed to Foam both because Galina had ordered it, and because he deserved it.

The nonhumans were too angry to see reason, however. In their minds, I’d abused their one and only nonhuman tribune in Earth’s service. They couldn’t get past that, and it didn’t matter that Foam had been a stone-cold mutineer, plotting assassinations for all his superiors from the get-go.

Accordingly, I’d spent much of the trial plotting my revenge. The key to doing this kind of thing was surprise and utter determination.

The first thing I did was pick out my target. I thought about Raash, I really did, but that didn’t seem right to me. He really had suffered at my hands in the past, and he didn’t deserve anymore trouble just for being a bad sport.

No… it had to be someone else.

My eyes slid over the group with a predatory air. The crowd was ranting, venting, shaking fists, claws and tentacles in the air—but I didn’t listen to any of their angry nonsense. I was working on a plan of my own.

I considered the squids. How could I not? They were such a sourpuss group of slime balls. They were disingenuous in the extreme. I’d only played the game by their rules and won. In squid culture, perming a superior for malfeasance was only called one thing: “winning”.

But still, although the squids could all die as far as I was concerned, I felt a little sympathy for them. They were caught up in a world not of their own making. All their boy Foam had done was apply his natural rules to a human organization, and he’d gotten permed for it. Was that his fault, or was it ours? I didn’t know. The only thing I knew for sure was that squids and humans weren’t compatible in the long run. Foam had told me as much himself, and I felt he was right.

Hmm… my eyes slid to the right, then the left, then… at last I landed them center-stage. On old Ankou himself.

He was really getting off on the trial. It was a private source of joy to him. There was something evil locked inside our smallest brothers, the gremlins. I didn’t understand it, but then I didn’t understand why flies liked to land on my hands and face all the time until I smashed them in a rage, either.

Ankou… he had come out of nowhere. He was probably in charge because he was among the most devious and smartest of Earth’s subjects. Knowing that was enough for me.

It occurred to me that everyone else here had served the legions in some way. The big warrior types from Blood World served with guns and guts. The squids were evil, but they’d done a lot of fighting and dying under our orders as well. Hell, even old Raash had run a revival machine for years.

But not the gremlins. They’d never done one damned thing of value as far as I knew. Despite this, Ankou had somehow wangled himself a slot as a judge and jury over me. That just didn’t sit right with me. Not at all.

But… how to do it?

Naturally, I’d been disarmed upon entering this “courtroom” and I had a pair of Blood Worlder guards standing at either side of me. They blinked and shuffled their feet, both baffled and bored by the process.

“Hey,” I whispered to the man on my right. “Hey, fat-boy. You remember me?”

The heavy trooper turned a strange eye in my direction. His face was so big, and he was so tall, he had to tip his head to see me, like a horse checking out a stable hand.

I grinned at him for a few seconds, but he didn’t say anything. He turned back toward the trial with a face just as blank and useless as before.

Some of them didn’t talk much—or at all. Damn.

My head swiveled to the left. I grinned again at the second man—but before I could make my pitch to him, a squeaky voice interrupted me.

“McGill? McGill!”

It was Ankou himself. He was off his red velvet perch hopping in my direction. Gremlins walked in normal gravity kind of the way humans walked on the Moon. It was like they had springs in their feet.

“The accused will pay attention when spoken to,” Ankou said crossly.

“Sorry sir, I just got bored.”

“Bored? Bored with what? This is a very serious matter, human. A very serious matter indeed.”

“Yeah? Sorry, I didn’t realize. I thought you guys were all just participating in this mental masturbation for your own personal pleasure.”

Ankou blinked in shock, then he became offended. “Contempt! Contempt for my court! You all heard it, didn’t you?”

He turned to the crowd and howled with fury. “Don’t you feel his contempt for all of you? For all of us?”

The aliens and assorted freaks howled with him. They wanted my blood. Raash walked up and aimed a claw at me and began making his summary argument. “This beast is not like the others. He’s far more foul, more devious, more evil and corrupt of mind.”

After this, they both moved to talk to the crowd. They weren’t interested in me or my case, not really, they just wanted to dump on humans. We had, after all, conquered them all at one point or another.

When their attention left me out of the spotlight for a minute, I looked to my left. There stood the second idiot Blood Worlder. He was just as big and dumb-looking as the guy on my right, but sometimes some of them held a spark of wit.

“Hey,” I said, “hey, fat-boy!”

It took a few tries, but I got him to look at me. He did it with that weird, one eye tipped-down expression the other guy had used.

“Whut?” he asked, and I dared to feel hope in my heart.

“Do you know who I am?”

He squinted, and he stared hard. “You hummie. Bad hummie guy.”

“That’s right,” I said, knowing that you never told a dummy he was wrong. No matter what he said, you told him he was right, but then you modified it a little in your favor. “I’m a bad hummie. But do you know which hummie? I was once announced the hero of all Blood World. Your people joined Earth because of me.”

The big dumbass squinted some more. I almost gave up hope—but then his eyes widened, and he pointed a finger the size of a chair leg in my direction. “You the hero!”

“That’s right, big boy! You remember!”

He grinned then, and he looked honored and amazed.

Way, way back, when I was just a minor-league scoundrel, I’d fought and killed my way to the top of a pyramid of aliens. It had been a grand contest, and it had resulted in the final conquering of Blood World, a place that serves us by sending us ground troops to this very day.

“Hey,” I said, now that I had his complete attention. “Can you do me a favor?”

He stared at me. “Whut?”

I pointed at Ankou.

“Kill that little prancing prick for me. Will you do that, big guy?”

It was a mean thing to do. I’ll be the first to admit that—but I was in a foul mood. I’d been messed with all day, and I didn’t feel I deserved it.

The big Blood Worlder stared at the tiny Ankou. The gremlin was now making a speech to the audience at large. He was mesmerizing them, weaving a spell of words and deceit.

“I can do that,” he said in a very straightforward voice. “I can kill him.”

“Okay. You’re on. If you live, I’ll give you a promotion—and a cookie. I swear you’ll get a cookie.”

The brute’s face lit up. We’d taught Blood Worlders about cookies over the years, and they’d come to be easily motivated by them.

Now, I can almost hear the complaints concerning my ethics at this point. I have to confess, this moment wasn’t my finest—but it was close.

You see, I’m generally considered to be a man of violent action. Rightfully so. But today, since I was chained up, I had to get another man to mete out justice in my place. It was something new, and I kind of liked the sensation.

The Blood Worlder who’d been swayed by my fame and my promises of treats was indeed a near-genius of his kind. He stared intently at the gremlin, who was talking about punishment and rewards. Ankou went on and on concerning the delivery of harsh judgments upon the wicked. It didn’t take a genius to know he was talking about me.

But the very man they’d set to guard me, like all his kind, was immune to such nonsense. He had a mission, and a reason to perform it. Two reasons, if you count both my vaunted status and the cookie.

The guard lowered his chin to his chest. The monster watched the gremlin as Ankou revolved slowly in a circle, casting his wicked words at the crowd. The heavy trooper stared with unblinking eyeballs the size of goose eggs.

At last, when the gremlin had slowly spun away from us, on a fresh circuit, my guard began to stalk forward. He dropped the jingling chain that held my wrist, and he gripped a cutlass in his gigantic fist. Without roaring or charging, he walked at a leisurely pace toward the center of the room.

A few of the patrons noticed this. Most notably, the delegation of squids raised their tentacles in alarm.

Ankou didn’t like to be interrupted, however. He fluttered a set of pipe-cleaner thin fingers at them, indicating they should shut up.

“…and so, this august body clearly has no option other than to—”

He cut off with a squeak. My Blood Worlder buddy had lifted the massive cutlass in a mechanical motion, and he’d brought it down with fantastic force.

At the last moment, however, a tentacle had interposed itself. The powerful alien limb strove with the wrist of the trooper. They were both straining mightily.

Realizing what was happening, Ankou had spun around and squeaked in dismay. There was no near-human more cowardly when it came right down to it.

“Stop him!” Ankou ordered. “Stop that mad-thing!”

That’s when I raised my hands to my mouth and cupped my fingers around my mouth. Sucking in a deep breath, I bellowed with a volume no gremlin could compete with.

“It’s the squids! They’re attacking! They’ve gone mad!”

The audience paused in confusion. A few surged forward, but most simply looked around, baffled and annoyed.

This wasn’t true of the Blood Worlder troops, however. The men Ankou had chosen as guards were all from the same litter, I’d surmised. They were all the brothers of the man battling the squid at center stage. There were nine of them, several at the exit and one more in front of each group of alien representatives.

As one, the other eight troopers came to life. To their simple eyes, they saw one of their brothers struggling against a squid. What’s more, someone had declared the squids the enemy. That was enough to get their primitive minds burning.

They charged to their brother’s defense. They hacked apart the squid who’d dared to wrestle one of their kind, and when the tentacle that was holding onto my champion’s arm was sliced off, he turned with murderous intent toward Ankou.

The gremlin was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. He began bounding for the exit.

My eyes never left him, and I moved to intercede.

In the meantime, the courtroom went bananas. Most of the assembled aliens tried to run out of the place. A few stayed to fight with the crazy Blood Worlders, to restrain them—but this only got them placed on the kill-list. As the nine brothers were guardians and the only people armed inside the chamber, the fight was one-sided. An awful carnage began.

I ignored all of it. I wanted one thing and one thing only—Ankou.

I caught up to him at the doorway. I stomped down, but he dodged at the last moment. I only caught the tip of his tiny left boot.

Still, I stomped hard, and his foot was crushed to jelly.

Quick as a cat, he drew a needle-like dagger and stabbed my leg with it. I howled—but I didn’t lift my foot.

Then, in an impressive move, the little bastard slashed his own foot off. He hopped away then, at a much slower pace. He had the presence of mind to touch his thumb to his nose in my general direction.

He almost made it to the exit and away, but at the very doorway a massive sword came down, cutting him in half.

A lot of squids and other folk knocked me flat after that, stampeding toward the exit. I crawled away and was lifted to my feet by a strong, scaly arm.

It was Raash.

We locked gazes, and we both narrowed our eyes to slits. There was a fantastic level of distrust and animosity between us, there always had been.

“Human,” Raash said. “You are the worst of your kind. Even worse than that gremlin.”

“Let go of me, Raash, or I’ll take you back to Rigel. This time, I’ll leave you as melted grease and scales.”

His claw opened, and he released me. I was kind of surprised. Together, we ran out of the place. Raash talked to me some more when we were outside in the cold air.

He raised one nasty claw into my face. “I had planned to frighten you. To humiliate you and make you beg for mercy. Now you have spoiled this experience for me.”

“I’m so sorry about that,” I lied.

“Never mind. I never intended to incarcerate you, no matter how richly you deserve it. You gave me life when you could have left me dead. For that reason, you’ve been holding a debt over my head. A debt I’ve hated more than I hate you.”

“Uh… what are you trying to say, Raash?”

“I say now that I give back your freedom and your life. There is no more debt between us.”

This surprised me, but not overly much. I’ve found over the years that aliens were truly alien. They didn’t think like we did. Their concept of right, wrong, insult and compliment was all different.

Still, when a rival gives me a break, I’m always inclined to accept it. I nodded to the lizard. “All right, we’re square. Fair enough… but can you do one more thing for me?”

“You demand a boon? Truly, your avarice knows no boundaries—”

“Hold on, hold on. Settle down. It’s not a hard thing to do.”

Raash looked upset, but he finally opened his mouth and made more whistling noises. His interpreting device translated for him. “What is it you demand?”

“A cookie. I want you to find that Blood Worlder who freed me and give him a cookie.”

“Cookie? A confection? What point is there to this request? Do you mock me? Do you wish me to embarrass myself?”

“No, no, no, nothing like that. I just promised him.”

Raash considered the idea. “Hmm… it is within my power… but how do I tell one of those Blood Worlders from another? What if he dies in battle?”

“Then just give all his brothers a cookie.”

Raash straightened and looked suspicious. “Did you just multiply my required penance by a factor of nine? This is abuse.”

“Come on, Raash. A bag of cookies isn’t hard to get. All you have to do is give one to each man. What do you say?”

He groused some more, but he finally agreed. I grabbed his claw to shake on it, but he pulled it away from me rudely. He stalked away toward the mess tents.

Smiling, I turned and ran off. The scene in the center of the camp was so chaotic no one seemed to notice. The trial of James McGill was at an end.

-53-

When I reached my barracks, I was whistling a happy tune from my youth. By damn, I’d done a bang-up job on those alien friggers, and I was proud of it.

It took me a while to find my unit’s dugout. When I finally did, I walked down the snow-dusted steps into the dark interior, and I grinned at my troops. They looked back at me sullenly.

Apparently, they needed some cheering up—Legion Varus style.

“Come on, soldiers,” I said sternly. “Why the long faces? Are you guys seriously pouting about getting pretty much wiped out back there at the wall?”

A few rolled their eyes. Some others snorted and shook their heads. People tossed gear into lockers and pulled on boots in a moping manner. I didn’t like to see this kind of thing in my own unit.

“Centurion?” asked a woman’s voice. It was Adjunct Erin Barton, the quietest and least troubling of my officers.

Turning around, I faced her. “What is it, Adjunct? Don’t tell me you’re upset, too.”

She shook her head. “Not about dying, sir. It’s about your removal. I… I guess you’re here to say goodbye, huh? We didn’t have time to pull together any kind of party—I’m sorry about that.”

My chin hit my chest. Honest, it did. I stared at the girl like the slack-jawed ignoramus I truly was.

“Uh… my what?”

Harris walked up next, and he slapped me on the chest. This made my jaw snap shut at least. My teeth clacked together, sounding like a gator that had missed a duck.

“I’m sorry to see you go, McGill,” he said seriously. “Really I am. It’s been a long time, a lot of good fights and good drinks.”

Leeson walked up next, and he offered me a hand to shake. I took it numbly. “That goes for me, too. I’m not sure how you screwed that galactic pooch in the sky this time, but I guess it was one time too many. We had some good times. Good times…”

They were all shaking their heads and moping. I was still too stunned to say anything.

Carlos approached me next. He clapped me on the back. “It’s a damned shame, big guy. I’m out if you’re out, you know… if that makes you feel any better.”

I shook my head. “Nope. It doesn’t make me feel any better at all. I… I’ve got to go check on some things. See you guys later, I need to—”

Leeson got in my way. He blocked the exit in fact. Normally, that might have been a suicidal move, but I was too blown away to knock him flat today.

“Sir?” he said in a lowered voice. “Listen… have you heard anything about… uh… about your replacement? I mean… I’d like to know what’s coming my way.”

I stared at him, and I shook my head. “I don’t know shit.”

Leeson shrugged dejectedly. “They’re not giving it to me, I know that much. They never promote their most experienced men. They’ll have me wearing an adjunct’s bars until I’m good and permed someday.”

“I suspect you’re right… now stand aside, Adjunct.”

He did, and I rushed past him and up the stairs. Outside, snow was beginning to fall. It was getting cold again, and I realized the ground would soon ice over and be covered in white stuff again. The heat of the bombing had faded away—even if there was still some residual radiation.

The walk toward headquarters was nothing like the jaunty stroll I’d made coming back to my unit. Instead of whistling, I strode with dark purpose.

Primus Graves had set up his headquarters inside the main bunker. It seemed to me that in the absence of the deceased Tribune Foam, Graves was running the legion by default.

Lesser men scattered out of my way. They had a sense that I wasn’t in a good mood.

“Ah, there you are, McGill. Why are you still in that uniform? Civvies can’t wear that suit—and what’s this? Are you still armed? That’s a violation.”

“Sir, am I officially demoted or something? I don’t quite get what’s going on here.”

He blinked once, then frowned. “Really? Didn’t Ankou get around to the part where you’re kicked out of the legion? Is he going to make this trial take a week or something? Such nonsense. I’m contacting him right now.”

He reached out a hand toward his tapper, but I moved to block him. He turned up a very serious and violent set of eyes in my direction when I did this. You just didn’t go around touching Graves—not if you knew what was good for you.

“McGill? Are you out of your mind? If I execute you now, you’re permed. You know that, right? You’re no longer a member of Legion Varus. No one will revive you even if someone tries to make a murder charge stick on me for what I’m about to do.”

I withdrew my hand, and I forced an apologetic grin. “I’m real sorry, sir. I just need a little time to make all this right—could you give me that chance, Primus, sir?”

He stared at me. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, you see… it’s a funny thing. Ankou never got to the end of his trial. He never pronounced judgment, or declared my removal—none of that stuff.”

Graves blinked. “What? He went off-script?”

“That’s right, sir. He surely did. So technically, I’m still Centurion James McGill, at your service.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “All right, all right. I guess the alien congress took a break or something, huh? I’ll give it another twenty-four hours, that’s it, though. If they don’t reach a verdict by then, I’m kicking you out myself.”

I frowned to hear that. “On what basis, sir? Why should I be kicked out of Legion Varus at all?”

“Are you kidding me? You murdered your CO, that’s why. Get a clue.”

“It’s not murder if he’s in the middle of an act of mutiny.”

Graves shook his head. “Is that the defense you dreamed up? That won’t wash, McGill. As a Varus officer your legion’s tribune is your personal god. You can’t just go and decide he’s guilty of treason. No one appointed you judge, jury and executioner. You’re a glorified grunt. You never did know your place.”

I had to admit to myself that Graves was right about all that, but instead of saying it aloud, I shook my head. “Sir, I was ordered by a superior officer—superior to Foam, that is—to take him out.”

“Yes, yes. I heard all that about Fike and Turov. Makes me sick. In any case, Turov denies it. She blames you entirely.”

“She said that? She said it was all my idea to kill Foam?”

Graves looked right at me. “She didn’t have to. You made the claim, and she said nothing.”

“But she’s on Dominus, sir—”

“So what? She can listen in on all our channels whenever she wants to. Extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof, McGill. What we have here is a disgruntled sociopath—I’m talking about you, understand?”

“I got that part, sir.”

“Right. A sociopath who decided he didn’t like squids. He didn’t like squid commanders in particular. Accordingly, he took justice into his own hands and killed his CO. Case closed.”

“I want to call Imperator Turov to the witness stand.”

Graves laughed in my face. “Good luck with that. You don’t order an Imperator around—especially not on a hostile battlefield. No, you’re out—or you will be when the aliens get around to that point of their little show-trial.”

My mind was moving like a greased rabbit by now. It was on a dark path, a warpath—but I tried to steer away from another fit of violence and rage. It wasn’t going to help me now.

“Primus, sir…” I said, taking a deep breath. “I’m going to walk out of here, but I need to know something. I’m still a centurion for now—right?”

Graves shrugged. “I suppose so. Go visit the commissary one last time if you want to. Once you’re a civvie, we’ll have to arrange transport home for you somehow… maybe one of these Claver huts has a set of gateway posts in it or something.”

“That would be nice, sir,” I lied. “But for right now, I’m going to keep my uniform and my weapon. No objections, right? No arrest warrants?”

He frowned at me. “Hmm… you’ve got a point, there… Why aren’t you manacled? You should be in the stockade or something…”

I lifted a friendly hand. “The zoo court decided to let everyone out to piss on the grass, that’s all.”

“What grass… okay, whatever. Get out of here.”

I hurried back up the steps and out of the bunker. With every step, I expected someone to raise the alarm. At some point, the aliens were going to get their act together and notice I’d skedaddled. From that moment on, my ass would be grass.

Every step away from the headquarters felt like my last. The spot between my shoulder blades burned like I had crosshairs locked on me.

But no shot rang out. No one shouted or raced after me—I was still a free man. I was living on borrowed time, sure. I knew that. But weren’t we all?

-54-

Darkness fell outside the dome, in the wasteland beyond. The Tau were still out there, licking their wounds. They hadn’t attacked us again after their initial rush, but I knew they weren’t quitters. Not when there was a large amount of coin to be scored. That went double for the bears. No sir, they weren’t done with us either—not yet.

Using my tapper very carefully, I did a quick little search. I told the device I wanted to know my chain of command, and I wanted to know where each individual on that list was located. After a minute or so of spinning and searching the star system, my tapper displayed the results of the query.

Graves was nearby, in his bunker. No surprise there. My tribune—well, the less said about that the better. They still had Tribune Foam in that slot, and his name was dark red. That color indicated that he was dead—and that he had been for a while.

The last name to appear was that of Galina Turov. The food-chain topper herself.

She was still on Dominus. She hadn’t bothered to find her way back to Ice World.

I bared my teeth. Of course she was on Dominus. That girl had never met a fight she wanted to be in the middle of. She liked her comforts and fighting and dying tended to get in the way of all that. Somehow, she always found a way to distance herself from the battle at hand.

That made my problem all the more difficult. I had to get to her and get her to admit she’d given me the order to shoot Foam. The trouble was, there were no gateway posts handy. The ones we’d used to transport the legions down earlier in this campaign hadn’t survived the bombing and the invasion ship landing.

I thought of other ideas, such as getting the pilot of a lifter or a fighter to take me up to Dominus… but realistically, that was going to be damned near impossible. So… what to do? How could I possibly fix this?

I needed a drink to clear my mind, but I didn’t dare go into the commissary like Graves had suggested. I knew myself, hours from now some MP would find me there still “thinking”. No, the best I could do was take a walk under that icy sky. So I went for a walk in the fresh snow drifts, and I did some hard thinking.

Galina wasn’t going to help me. Drusus was out too, as he was back on Earth. Besides, this time there was no way of quickly running back home to change my destiny.

After going through every name I knew, I came up with only one possibility. Only one person who I could turn to for help on this dire day.

I didn’t like the name, but there wasn’t any better option I could think of. It was going to be a longshot anyway, but it was all I had.

Walking the picket lines around Claver-town, I noticed a picket had been placed every hundred meters. These were dismal Claver-Threes. They looked miserable, and I couldn’t blame them for that. Overnight guard duty on Ice World was a brutal thing.

Stepping near the next man in line I met, I stared out at the open snowy field that led uphill to the mountains and the walls blocking the passes.

“Nice night,” I said in a neighborly fashion.

The gorilla-like clone glanced at me, but he didn’t say squat.

“Say, a smart man like you might be just the person I’ve been looking for.”

The clone glanced again, and the muscles in his arm jumped. I got the feeling I was bothering him, but I didn’t take offense. I just kept on grinning and nodding like we were buds.

He looked away, so I pestered him again. “A man like you always knows where his master is, don’t you?”

The man turned toward me again, and this time he stared. He blinked once, then twice, then he stared some more.

“That’s right. You know what I’m talking about—the prime. Where is the prime, friend?”

As far as I knew, there was just one Claver-Prime left on Ice World at the moment. He wasn’t Claver-X, he was a real legit commander of their kind. The rest of them… well, they often didn’t get along when things went poorly. It was my suspicion the rest had offed each other until only one was left.

That single man, wherever he was, hadn’t shown his nose for a long time.

“The prime?” the clone asked me. He was fixated on me now. He was staring.

“That’s right,” I said gently. “Where is the prime?”

“He’s… he’s down below.”

“Down below? Below what?”

But that was all I got out of him. He was a dummy, and he was determined to live up to his namesake.

Grumbling and annoyed, I stopped wasting my time on him and walked the edge of the camp. I thought of many possible hiding places.

Sure, I could go and ask Graves. He probably knew the truth—but that wouldn’t be a good idea. As far as Graves was concerned, I was no longer a member of my beloved Legion Varus. The less he thought about me and what I was doing the better.

Sighing, I decided to go door to door. It was a long hunt, and after an hour or so, the landscape became truly icy. Night was falling, and it was getting colder by the minute.

There was a sharp wind coming down from the peaks to the north. That was irritating all by itself. After all, if the physicists could build a dome that could stop a fusion warhead, you’d think it could stop the wind, too. But noooo, that wasn’t how it worked.

At last, I found a bunker that was empty. After looking around, I realized it was empty—and worse, that it had been empty the last time I’d checked that very same bunker.

I growled with disappointment. I’d circled the whole place. I’d awakened every soldier who was trying to get some well-earned rest, and I hadn’t found crap.

It was hopeless… but then I had a thought. Why was this single bunker empty? None of the rest of them were…

Walking inside, I inspected it carefully. I felt the walls, kicked the snowflakes that had blown around over the floor, and…

“Damn!”

I’d kicked something hard—something large that was buried in the drifting snow. I brushed away the white stuff and peered at it using my suit lights.

A metal ring? A ring buried in the floor? What the heck…?

Not being a subtle man, I wrapped my fists around the ring and heaved on it. After some mighty tugging, ample cursing, scrabbling of feet, and a sore back—it came open.

A trapdoor lifted back with a squeal. Inside, there were narrow puff-crete steps leading down.

I smiled to myself. What had I found hidden down here? There was only one way to find out.

Heading down the steps, I found them narrow and kind of uneven. The steps were carved from the permafrost deep under Ice World and coated with a thin layer of puff-crete. Quickie construction at its finest.

Before I got to the bottom, however, a gun muzzle was pointed into my face. It was black and sleek with a slim barrel. Behind the gun was a pissed-looking Claver-Prime.

“Hey! Fancy finding you down here,” I said in a cheery tone.

“McGill…? You know, I could perm you right now. You know that, don’t you?”

“Uh… you got some of that funky juice Foam was injecting into people’s tappers?”

“No, you idiot. I’m talking about these walls. They’re shielded. As far as the legion servers are concerned, when you came down those steps, you vanished off this planet. If you die right now, all I have to do is bury you down here—and you’re permed.”

I heaved a sigh of relief. “That sure is good news, Mr. Claver, sir.”

“And why would that be?”

“Because you’ve got no reason to perm me. Hell, I’m not even in Legion Varus anymore.”

He blinked twice, and he stared at me. His eyes were full of suspicion and curiosity. Finally, he grunted and let me walk down to the bottom of the steps. His gun stayed in my face, however.

“All right. I’ll bite. What the hell are you talking about, you buffoon?”

“Uh… do you mean baboon?”

“No, I don’t. It’s different—dammit, just tell me what you’re doing down here, and what’s this crap about you being kicked out of the legions?”

I explained, and I showed him footage of the slaughter at the alien witch-trial I’d gone through. Pretty soon, he was laughing. It turned into a belly-laugh after a while.

“So you see, I’m not exactly worth perming,” I finished up.

Wiping at his eyes, he lowered his gun and shook his head. “You never were, you never were. All right… so here’s your second question: what the hell are you doing down here? This bunker is strictly off-limits.”

“It is? I didn’t see any signs posted, or—”

“I don’t have to post signs. This is our camp—a Claver stronghold. It’s good enough for your people to know they aren’t welcome down here. Or maybe they haven’t gotten that message yet?”

My neck was craning, trying to look around the underground chamber. It was round and had clearly been rough-hewn in the dirt and sprayed with puff-crete. In the back was a door of sorts, built out of a sagging metal sheet.

I pointed at the door. “What’s on the other side of that door?”

“Just shut up about that. You’re on thin ice right now, boy. I’m asking all the questions. What are you looking for, exactly?”

“You,” I said, pointing at his belly.

“Why?”

“Well see, I need to get ahold of a pair of gateway posts. You wouldn’t happen to have a set back there behind that door, would you?”

He squinted at me like a rat in a cage. “If we had gateway posts, we’d have used them by now to evacuate.”

“Yeah… that’s what I figured. Why do you build a base way the hell out here with no gateways?”

“First off, because your boys blew up most of them back on Clone World. Secondly, because we decided a long time ago not to link our strongholds that way.”

“Really? Why not?”

He twisted up his lips. “Think about it for a second. I’m sure something will come to that addled organ of yours.”

I did give it a think, and after a half a minute I came up with an idea. “You don’t want us gaining easy access to all your worlds, do you?”

“That’s right, genius. What kind of a secret organization builds a convenient subway system that connects every group? No, we operate like spy cells these days. We’re separate, with each base hidden and yet capable.”

“Capable, huh? What was this bases’ specialty?” I asked.

“We’re the bank, dipshit. We hold onto the cash reserves.”

“Oh yeah… that’s kind of obvious. Okay, so how do I get off this rock and save everything?”

He crossed his arms, letting his pistol get tucked under his arm. “Save everything? What are you talking about?”

I told him about the growing numbers of Tau and Rigellian troops outside the dome. The prime looked concerned.

“We know about them…” he said. “Do you think they can break in here? Do you think our defenses will fall?”

“This fortress almost fell the last time,” I told him, “and by the time the next attack comes, we won’t have revived all of the people we lost. We’ll start off the fight with our reserves deployed on the walls. If anything breaks after that—well, they’ll roll right down here into the center of the show.”

Claver frowned. “Right…” he said, seeing my logic. “So how does Graves plan to stop them?”

“I don’t know if he has a plan, really. As our reinforcements arrive, we’ll plug the holes in our lines and stand fast.”

“Sounds like a plan… a bad one.”

Claver was finally starting to get it. I needed to convince him that our situation was perilous to get any help out of him.

“That’s exactly right,” I told him. “The plan sucks, but I think I’ve got a way to save us—to save all of us. But first, tell me what’s behind that door. Tell me why you’re down here, hiding in the dark.”

He looked angry all over again. “I’m not hiding. I’m tending to the sole reason we’re all on this miserable planet.”

My face brightened. I pointed at that shabby door. “You mean… seriously? This is where you keep them? In a rat hole under an unused shed?”

“Where better? Only an idiot with a death wish would search a place like this as thoroughly as you did.”

I half smirked at that. He wasn’t wrong. Walking to the back of the chamber, I tugged, then wrenched the metal ring in the door. Claver didn’t try to stop me.

At last I yanked it open, and my eyes landed on a fantastic sight. Inside was another chamber, and it was full of open crates. In each of these crates was a fortune in Galactic credits.

After the effects of being dazzled by wealth beyond imagining faded, I noticed something else. Something I’d never considered before.

Each of the crates bore a special marking.

“What’s that mark mean, Claver? Is that a family crest of some kind? I didn’t know you Clavers went in for that kind of thing.”

Claver laughed, and it was an unpleasant sound. “That’s not our family crest, you big dummy. Don’t you recognize it?”

After a few moments of staring, I found I did recognize the emblem marking the crates. I’d seen that same design just a month or two back… what was it?

“Huh… is that the Turov coat of arms? It is, isn’t it?” I asked, and even as I spoke these words, the enormity of their meaning began to sink into my slow-poke brain.

Claver laughed again. “I see that you’re beginning to figure things out, aren’t you boy? I’m glad I didn’t have to draw out a map for you this time.”

My mouth gaped, and my eyes must have been wide as saucers. “Holy… are you kidding me? Did you steal these coins from the Turov family? From old Alexander himself?”

Claver ruffled at this idea. “Steal? We Clavers don’t steal! We… negotiate. We make deals and trades.”

“So, you’re telling me that this fortune in wealth, cash overflowing boxes marked with the Turov crest, isn’t their money? It’s all your money, nice and legit?”

He gave me a dismissive shrug. “Sometimes every party in a contract isn’t completely satisfied with the final results. In such a case, we might do a little confiscating when a business arrangement goes sour. But rest assured, we were owed all of that and more.”

I stared at him, then at the money, then back at him again. My eyes jumped like a frisky fly that doesn’t know where to land.

Now, anyone who knows me could tell you that my brain is slower than a three-legged turtle, but I was beginning to see the light. All the events that had led me to this fateful moment were starting to make sense.

The Tau hadn’t just come out of nowhere due to Carlos passing off a few coins. They’d come for a bigger score. They’d come because they knew there was a stash of big money in this story somewhere. Cash I’d never imagined was real.

If the Turovs had owned all those coins to begin with, maybe they’d hired the Tau to find their lost property. Maybe they’d tracked us down and learned the truth. That’s how I, a lowly centurion of Legion Varus, had ended up in the golden presence of this king’s ransom.

“The Turovs sent the Tau…” I said. “They must have. That old buzzard Alexander Turov… he’s behind this, isn’t he? The attacks back on Earth—everything!”

Claver shrugged. “It stands to reason. The Tau don’t do anything without getting paid. Sure, there are a few of their coins in my vaults, but that’s not where the bulk of it comes from.”

“I get it. I get it. And to think I was blaming Carlos all this time—but hey, there’s one thing I don’t get.”

“What’s that, genius?” Claver asked.

“Why did old Alexander Turov have the Tau attack his own garden party? His daughter’s wedding was messed up. Sophia got killed, and she didn’t even remember the guy she was going to marry once she caught a revive.”

Claver grinned up at me. “Keep the wheels turning inside that thick skull of yours, boy. You’ll figure it out.”

“Uh… maybe he didn’t like the guy she was marrying?”

Claver let go with another nasty laugh. “Okay,” he said when his amusement faded. “You’ve seen some secrets, and you’ve entertained me with your idiocy. But you still haven’t given me a good reason not to perm you down here in the darkness. Your former officers will probably give me a medal for it, if I asked them.”

I pointed a big finger at him, and he scowled at it. His gun reappeared in his hand.

“I can help you,” I told him, “I can help all of us. Let me go cut a deal with the original injured party. We’ll give the old man back half the money—or we’ll vaporize it all. We’ll offer them the same deal we cut with Legion Varus.”

Claver scratched his head. “Seems like there are a lot of halves you’re passing around, here.”

“That’s true…” I admitted. “But that’s okay as long as they don’t all know about each other.”

Claver narrowed his eyes to slits. “Clavers don’t deal like that. We can’t pull tricks like that and survive. These coins are ours, as I said. We didn’t steal them. We took them in lieu of payment for other—”

“Look, this will be my idea, not yours. That’s why I’ve got to go back to Earth. I don’t care where you got these coins or how. I’m sure old Alex Turov is a shady customer, but that doesn’t matter right now. He’s hired a load of Tau—and apparently some bears to fight with them—to invade this planet. Once they get what they’re coming for, we’ll get nothing out of it. Everyone else will be cut out of the deal and probably permed as well.”

“Okay… I feel like I’m losing IQ points just listening to you right now, but let’s hear your pitch, McGill. What are you going to do, and how are you going to do it?”

I began to tell him, and he didn’t look super-happy to hear the details. But in the end, he agreed to give it a try.

Otherwise, the next Tau offensive might finish us all off and cut everyone out of the deal.

-55-

The Clavers didn’t have any gateway posts on Ice World—mostly because they didn’t want to link up invaders to another one of their bases. They didn’t have any other teleportation devices around, either. They appeared to be operating like secret cells, like hunted people in enemy territory. I didn’t envy them, but I did admire their ingenuity as a group.

What they did have was an old-fashioned deep-link device. That was absolutely required for interstellar communications. Some egghead had once explained to me that without this machine, which operated using quantum entanglement, radio transmissions would take hundreds of years to travel between the stars.

As it was impossible to make interstellar trade deals without being able to communicate with people on distant planets, the Clavers always had a deep-link available.

Grudgingly, Claver led me to where they had such a machine and watched me distrustfully as I began making calls on it.

“Those calls aren’t free you know, boy.”

“Don’t I know it,” I said. “The link company is a pack of terrible rip-off artists.”

I’d never owned a deep-link or opened a deep-link account or anything like that, but I’d learned how to get people to let me use their equipment. The key was to be sympathetic to complaints, while simultaneously operating as a huge mooch. So far, my techniques had fared well. I’d never paid for a single call, and I didn’t even know how much they actually cost.

Claver watched sourly while I rang Dust World for several minutes.

“Just ringing costs money, boy!” he burst out at last. “Why don’t you call someone else?”

“There’s no one else that can help me—at least, there’s no one who would be willing to do it for free. You interested in paying for this service?”

“No, dammit…”

The ringing and pinging went on and on. At last, after a goodly twenty minutes, I got someone to answer the damned call.

To my surprise, it wasn’t the Investigator. It wasn’t Floramel, either—it was my own daughter, Etta. She must have gone home from visiting my parents in Georgia by this time. I hadn’t even thought about that, but I’d been gone for awhile now.

“Daddy? What a surprise! Are you planning to come out and visit me on Dust World?”

“Uh… yes, as a matter of fact. I do plan to, but for right now… is the Investigator around, honey?”

A year or so back, Etta had moved to Dust World to stay with her grandfather, a strange man known as the Investigator. He was a scientist who specialized in the darkest of arts—technology forbidden to our race by the Galactics.

“No, sorry,” she replied. “He’s out at the pond collecting specimens. You want to talk to Floramel?”

“Sure, put her on. I’ll come out to see you soon.”

She got off the line happily, and I waited for Floramel to show up.

Claver had been wisely standing off to my left, watching all this in silence. He leaned in now and smirked at me. “Your girl looks a bit different than I remember. There’s something different about her face.”

I shrugged, deciding to avoid the topic. “Maybe she grew up some...”

The truth was my daughter wasn’t quite the same girl I’d raised for years. Etta had died and been permed, and we’d brought her back to life in an illegal way. As a direct consequence, she was stuck on Dust World where people didn’t track every human every second of the day, and where the Investigator had used some creative techniques to achieve her return to life.

After a minute or so, Floramel came to sit and look at me. “James? What’s this about?”

“I’ve got a file to send you. It has to come through error-free.”

She blinked at me. “What file?”

I told her, and she looked horrified. “Are you sure this is necessary? Absolutely sure?”

“Yep. It’s the only way. Don’t worry, girl. You guys can handle an unauthorized revive. I know you can.”

“But James, I think you’ve forgotten something. Even with your body scans and mental engrams, our methods take weeks to produce results. Do you have weeks to spare out there on Ice World?”

I forced a smile. This was going to be the hard part. In every underhanded deal, there was always a hook, a trick, a catch that stung.

“Uh… I didn’t want you guys to do the revival. Not on your equipment, that is.”

“What then? How do you expect to live again if you just send your files out to us?”

“Well… I need someone to take my files to a special place. A place on Earth.”

Floramel blinked at me. “Me? You mean you want me to go back to Earth?”

Her last words came out as a near-squeak. She’d finally realized the trap I was getting her into. She now understood that she was the target, and she had been all along.

Floramel shook her head. “I don’t know, James. I don’t have any pull back at Central—I might even be arrested. I don’t have a million credits in my pocket, either.”

“You don’t need any of that,” I said, keeping a smile pasted firmly on my lips. “I don’t even want you to go near Central. What you need is a pair of legs, a pretty smile, and enough money for sky-train fare. That’s all.”

Then, as I transmitted the lengthy files to her tapper from mine, I explained to her what I wanted her to do.

She wasn’t happy, but after a lot of cajoling, I got her to agree. When the call ended, the file transmission continued.

Claver peered at the machine suspiciously. “This is going to cost me a lot, isn’t it?”

“What do you care? I thought you Clavers were flush with coins.”

“A man doesn’t stay rich by throwing cash around.”

I punched the disconnect after the files had been transferred, then I sucked in a breath when the bill was displayed a moment later.

“Jumping Jehoshaphat!” I burst out. “That’s a stiff tab, Claver. Thanks for all the help.”

Getting up, I quickly exited the chamber. Then Claver caught sight of the bill, and he began cursing. I guess doing interstellar file uploads was pricy—much more so than just talking to people.

Scooting out into the snowy overland again, I found it was morning. Damn, it had been a long night. Hopefully, none of my precautionary plans would have to be utilized—

“There he is! There’s never been a sack of shit stacked so high!” The voice was that of Graves, and he sounded pissed.

I started to trot in the opposite direction, but I didn’t get very far. I came nose-to-muzzle with a pack of Clavers almost immediately. They put their guns into my face like so many microphones on the pope’s pulpit.

“Uh…” I said, lifting my hands in the air. “What’s the trouble, boys?”

Snow crunched behind me, and I turned to see Graves trotting near. He never ran much, and so I felt honored to have gotten such an excitable response out of the old primus.

“You are the trouble, McGill. We’ve been looking for you all night long. There isn’t a being on this planet—probably not one in this entire province—who doesn’t want to see you dead.”

“Is that so? How’d I get so famous?”

He shoved his tapper in my face. A vid played showing some Blood Worlder troops going mad in a bunker full of aliens. They hacked half of those aliens to bloody chunks while I watched in mock horror.

I tsked and shook my head. “That’s a shame, sir. A damned shame. You really should put whoever was in command of that squad on report. It’s just unacceptable.”

Graves lowered his tapper out of my face. He was red in the cheeks, and I didn’t think it was a healthy look for him.

“If I could, I’d execute you on the spot, right here and right now.”

“Uh… what’s holding you back sir, if you don’t mind my asking?”

He threw an arm out, pointing in the direction of the south wall. “The Tau are out there. They’ve assembled in their thousands. They’re covering the other two entrances to this miserable valley with small holding forces. But out there to the south, they’ve placed their real strength. Led by the bears, they’re going to drive their way right down into this valley in a matter of hours.”

“You don’t say? Are you thinking that I can do something about it?”

Graves nodded. “I’m hoping so. I’m sending you out there alone—as a gift to Squanto.”

Those words made me blink a few times. “Squanto? He’s here?”

Graves smiled grimly. I was glad I could at least please him sometimes. “Of course he’s here. Who else would have their hearts so filled with hate for humans as to join the Tau and come here to kill us all?”

His statement made good sense. If a human-hater had ever been born, it was good old Squanto. Back in the distant past, some would say I’d had something to do with that—but I’d deny it now and forever.

“Huh… what are we going to do?”

“You’re going to walk, and I’m going to transmit. I’m going to bargain for our lives with you as my primary bargaining chip.”

I shrugged. “Sounds like a plan—but have you cleared it with Turov?”

“She’s not running this expedition. She’s aboard her ship and drifting around at the very edge of the Mintaka planetary system.”

“So, she’s not… oh. She put you in charge and left you holding the bag, huh?”

Graves nodded. No wonder he was in such a God-awful mood.

I tried to convince Graves that his plan was unnecessary, and I even threw out a couple of great ideas of my own, but he didn’t bite on any of them. He rarely did.

“I’m not getting involved in any of your cockamamie nonsense. Not this time, McGill.”

“Okay then… What do you want me to do?”

Graves eyed me with immediate suspicion. He had the intuition of a fox circling a henhouse. “You’re done complaining already? You’re not going to try to talk me out of this?”

I shrugged helplessly, I bowed my shoulders, and I generally endeavored to look as defeated and forlorn as possible. “Let this be one last gift from me to Legion Varus—no, to Earth herself.”

Graves nodded, and he looked happier. He wasn’t easy to fool, but he was a firm believer in self-sacrifice. Nothing seemed to impress him more.

Taking a deep breath, Graves slapped me on the shoulder. “Good. That’s the way every soldier should go out. You might be an embarrassment, McGill. You’re a criminal, an idiot and God knows what else, but at least you’re taking permadeath like a man.”

“Thanks, Primus. Good luck to you too, sir.”

His guards stripped off my armor, gravity-cuffed my hands together, and dressed me in a thin spacers’ suit with no weapons of any kind.

Then Graves directed me toward the southern wall. I started trudging in that direction.

The wall looked a little worse for the wear. There were two new holes punched into it, up high. Apparently, things hadn’t gone smoothly while I spent the evening as Claver’s guest.

-56-

Throwing back my shoulders and standing tall, I marched through the broken fortifications and out into the open on the far side. There I found the broken siege tower and lots of death. Most of the corpses were Tau, burnt to stumps and ashes. Upwards of a thousand bodies were visible as strewn parts. Humps in the snow told of even more grim causalities scattered everywhere.

I made it to the crackling edge of the force field that formed the dome over the stronghold when bears appeared—a lot of them.

“Take the beast before it escapes!”

The voice was that of a translated Rigellian. It was kind of raspy and wavering like all of their kind. To me, they always sounded like angry little men who were trapped underwater someplace.

They’d materialized all around me. That was only possible if they’d just teleported here or been stealthed and following me for a while.

“You guys have stealth suits?” I asked, impressed.

“Of course, human!” a bear officer boasted. “We have every technology you talking-apes have and much more. You are our captive now!”

That was a hard moment for me. I really wanted to kill a few of them and go out fighting right away—but I restrained myself. Instead, I let them march me into the crackling dome.

During the slog through the force field, I decided to have a little fun. I couldn’t contain myself. I tripped two of the bears, and I did it in such a way as to have one land on top of the other.

They bounced up, snarling, and started fighting each other. Before I could do much more than grin widely, the officer bear came up and began smacking them until they walked straight again. By the looks they gave one another, though, I reckoned there was bad blood between them.

Bears are feisty. Being solo predators, they just aren’t as naturally cooperative with one another as pack-hunting types such as wolves and humans. This biological fact made them easy to piss off.

When we walked out into the wasteland beyond the dome, it looked different. A snowstorm must have come in strong overnight as the land was sugar-coated white. Every burnt tree branch was hung with icicles.

The big invasion ship was still squatting at the base of the mount—down there among the bodies of Tau and a few giants. The sight made me smirk. The bears must have crapped themselves when they saw those crazy giants charging at them. Too bad the big guys hadn’t been able to storm the ship and tear it apart.

As we approached, a ramp lowered out of the guts of the invasion ship. A lone figure walked down the ramp to greet us.

It was a bear, but a different kind of bear. He didn’t have a standard uniform on. Instead, he wore sort of a cloak decorated with some rings and other flashy details. I’d never seen a Rigellian wear this kind of costume before.

“Hey,” I asked the bear officer. “Who’s the fancy-pants guy on the ramp?”

“Do you not recognize your nemesis, creature? I’ve been led to believe that your kind possesses a certain degree of intellect. Perhaps the briefing was in error.”

“Uh… huh? Can’t you just tell me—”

But then the approaching foppish bear in the cloak began to speak, and I knew right off who he was.

“The most evil of the speaking-apes,” the bear said. “He’s mine at last! Know, human, that your doom is at hand. I’ve been looking forward to this day for a very, very long time.”

The bear was none other than Squanto. Although my list of dedicated haters was as long and distinguished as my pecker, this bear topped every roster. He hated me like no other being in the cosmos—and that was saying something.

“Squanto!” I boomed like I’d met a long-lost brother.

I took two steps forward, and the bears holding onto my chains were dragged, digging furrows with their heels. They tried to stop me, but it was hopeless. I stopped approaching the regal bear before they could use their shock-rods on me.

“Long-time no-see, buddy,” I said. “How’ve you been doing over the years?”

That’s when I noticed that Squanto was looking kind of… old. He was gray in the face, and his eyes were a little cloudy. I guess his kind weren’t into the endless cycle of death, life—and then another slice of death.

“McGill…” the old bastard breathed. “I can hardly credit my eyes. You look exactly as you did decades ago on that miserable planet where the rains never cease to fall…”

“What? Oh… you mean Storm World, right? M244-H?”

“Whatever you call the place, it was a wet Hell. I wish I’d never gone to that place…”

Squanto seemed kind of melancholy. I almost felt bad for the little frigger—almost.

But as I thought things over, I became a little confused. The Storm World campaign was only—what? Fifteen years past? Something like that. Time and years meant less to a legion man.

It seemed odd to me that Squanto had grown so old. He’d been strong and hale just a few years ago… Sure, maybe his kind didn’t have over-the-counter longevity drugs like Cell-stim and Nu-cream—but still, he shouldn’t be that old.

“Uh…” I said. “How come you’re so old looking, Squanto? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“No, not at all. Now that you’re in my power, I’m feeling almost magnanimous. My people do not live forever. Our lifespans rarely reach past forty of your standard years.”

“Ah… I get it. We humans live to be about a hundred—that is if we’re careful. I’d never thought about a difference in our lifespans. It’s kind of weird.”

Squanto came down the ramp fully, and we stood less than eight paces apart. He was almost in lunging distance, and my mind and eye automatically counted off the steps it would take to reach him.

The guards holding my chains seemed to sense this. They tightened their muscles, winding their paws up in the jingling links.

Unafraid, Squanto came closer. He seemed mesmerized. I peered down at him, and he gazed up at me. I could tell that for him, this was some kind of Zen experience. He’d been searching for me for too many years—such a vast chunk of his lifetime.

“High Lord,” the bear captain said, “should we take the prisoner to the ship’s brig?”

“Not yet. I wish to bask in this moment.”

Squanto closed his old eyes, and I knew it was now or never. This was where I was supposed to pull my trick—but I couldn’t do it. I just didn’t have it in me.

Sure, Squanto and I had both gotten our licks in over the years. If the truth were to be told, I’d gotten in at least twice as many as he had. Today was my chance to end our rivalry, to seal the High Lord’s fate forever. Claver and I had planned as much.

I had a change of heart. Instead of rushing forward and hugging the little furry bastard, I committed suicide early. I gripped my two chains and used what little slack I had. I punched myself in the stomach with both my fists, hammering at the same time. That triggered a deadly reaction.

“Squanto!” I called out while the two bear guards snarled and tugged and bit my arms savagely. Blood flew and the air was full of fur and howls as more bears rushed forward to help subdue me.

But then a blue-white glow began to come out of my mouth, and a few melting rays shot out of my guts as I began burning and dying.

“I could have taken you with me to Hell today, but I’ve decided to give that a pass. Farewell!”

Then, me and my two guards began melting in a grav-plasma implosion. In my final moments, I saw Squanto backpedaling up the ramp into his ship.

Even more pleasing, I saw the two guards who’d been trying to control me with chains and teeth were now wild with fear. They tried desperately to get away from the mad ape they’d been beating on, and the living bomb I’d become.

They were unsuccessful, and the plasma grenade Claver had so lovingly implanted into my guts last night consumed all three of us.

-57-

When my bleary eyes opened again, they were full of grit. The world was a blinding white. I coughed and gagged, hacking up the plug from my lungs.

“He’s alive. That’s all I can do.”

I heard the clinking of coins. Real coins. That was odd.

“Here’s your payment,” said an older man with an accent. “Forget what you’ve seen, or you’ll never see anything again.”

“Of course, Servant.”

That voice, it was vaguely familiar… and the bio called him Servant? Could it be Alexander Turov? The Public Servant of Western Russia Sector? I knew that it had to be. I’d recognize that accent and voice anywhere.

It was Galina’s father, and apparently he’d taken the bait Floramel had offered him. She’d come out to Russia and begged for my revival. She was such a loyal friend—I didn’t deserve her. I really didn’t.

My vision and motor functions slowly returned. I didn’t rush things, as I’d found over the years it was best to take in the lay of the land before demonstrating any kind of capacity for mischief.

My first hint concerning my status was the strap on my right wrist. I tugged at it experimentally, and I found it to be sound. The left was tied down as well. So… that’s how things were.

“Hello, sir,” I managed to rasp out. “I hope you’re feeling well today.”

“I’m fine, McGill, thank you for asking. How are you feeling?”

“Tip-top, sir.”

“Good… You must comprehend that this revival is a private affair. The equipment we used is old but serviceable. You understand, yes?”

“I sure do, and I’m grateful for the favor, sir. I won’t forget it. But… uh… what’s with the straps?”

“They’re a mere formality.”

By the sound of his voice, I knew old man Turov was lingering nearby. I could tell that much now. He was close, but not too close. Experimentally, I wriggled my feet. My ankles were strapped down just as tightly as my wrists. As I was naked, this left my Johnson and other important bits fully exposed and unguarded.

Now, I’m not the chicken-shit type, but the situation would give any thinking man ample cause for concern.

“So… what can I do for you, sir?” I asked.

“McGill, I stand here today in judgment of your character. If I find you wanting… well, this revive will be a figment. An imagined event that no one can recall afterward—not even you.”

“Uh… okay. How am I doing so far?”

Alexander rumbled a laugh, but it sounded more evil than happy. “The matter is not yet decided. Tell me, did you find a fortune out there among the stars?”

“I surely did. Thousands of golden coins—Imperial money, the real deal.”

I could kind of see the old bastard now, and I thought his face became a little more intense.

“Really? Were there any distinguishing characteristics to this hoard?”

I thought that over for a few seconds… one coin pretty much looked like the next—but then, I thought I knew what he was hinting at.

“Claver has them in an underground vault. They’re spilling out of special-made crates—crates with your family crest on them, sir.”

Turov leaned closer still. I thought to myself that I could probably snap my knee up hard enough to catch him under the jaw and flatten him. There ought to be enough slack in the straps for that—but I pushed that thought right back down to Hell where it had come from. Even if I knocked him out, I’d still be strapped naked to a table waiting for someone to come check on us. That wouldn’t do anyone any good, least of all me.

I forced myself to relax.

“Centurion,” he said, “are you very sure the coins were in crates with my insignia on them? Did you actually see these items firsthand?”

“With my very own eyeballs, sir. I swear it.”

Turov straightened up and withdrew a few paces. He began messing with something on the chamber wall.

“McGill,” he said, “my personal property is very important to me. Surely you understand this?”

“I surely do, sir. I feel the same way. Why, I have this old machete, see. It’s not much to look at, but—”

“Stop prattling, please. I need those coins returned to me. Not to the thieving government that operates this planet. Not to the grasping hands of Nox and her Imperial thugs—to me.”

“Uh… okay. How do I do that, sir?”

He stopped messing around with something on the chamber wall, and he showed me what he had. It was a teleportation harness. “My agents are known to you. They are the Tau. You’ll give them the cash that is mine, and you’ll have earned this return to life.”

I finally figured out what the old buzzard was doing. He was strapping a teleport harness onto my bare body. I looked down at it in confusion.

“Uh… but I’m still naked… you know that, right?”

“Yes. I’ll give you a suit to pull on when you arrive on Ice World. It will be uncomfortable at first, but—”

Along about this moment in our conversation something he said struck through my dull brain and provided evidence for something I’d only suspected before. “Mr. Servant, sir? Did you say you hired the Tau?”

Alexander stopped fussing with the harness. His craggy face came into view. “McGill, that’s a thing you’d best not discuss with anyone.”

“But… wait a minute… the Tau came here and attacked the wedding party. They killed your own daughter, and she forgot about her husband-to-be, and… oh.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Just that… well, maybe you didn’t like your daughter’s choice in men.”

He straightened his shoulders. “That is another matter best left forgotten. If you want to remember your own name the next time you breathe, you’ll never mention it from this day onward.”

“Understood, sir.”

The whole story was crystal clear to me now. Claver and I had been right. Old Alexander had played everyone for a fool. The Tau were working for the Turov family to recover the coins, and he’d staged the whole attack on his own mansion to throw everyone off his trail—and to fix a few family embarrassments.

And here I’d been thinking all this time that Galina was extra tricky. Compared to her, her dad was downright diabolical.

“Uh…” I said as the old geezer puffed and wheezed, suiting me up with the harness. “It would be easier if you’d just, like, take off these straps.”

“It would, but I can’t trust you. Legend has it you’re a volatile and violent man.”

“True words, Mr. Servant. I can’t deny it.”

So, I let him work on me for a bit, but something about his plan didn’t add up. “Servant? Sir? How am I supposed to get these coins to the Tau? I mean, when they attack again, they’ll kill us all and take them. Isn’t that pretty much the win you’re looking for?”

“I’m in contact with my agents at Mintaka. The situation has transformed into a stand-off. The Clavers claim they’ll destroy the coins before they give them up. Your job will be to serve as my agent on the inside. The Tau must acquire all the coins.”

“Oh…” I said, and my thinker was hurting. I didn’t want to tell him I was going to be shot on sight inside the dome when I got back there. After my misbehavior at my trial and subsequent fleeing from justice, I wasn’t going to be able to convince anyone on Ice World about much of anything.

The truth was that I was probably more useless as an agent right now than any given Tau for old Turov’s purposes. But he didn’t know that, so I kept quiet about it.

As he fiddled with straps and wires, I wracked my brain for ideas. He tapped in a set of coordinates on the harness. I was about to be airmailed right back to that frozen hell of a planet. How was I going to do this?

Coming up blank, I again considered a knee-bashing. I almost did it, too—but then, at the last second, I got better idea.

When he reached for the harness launch button, I stopped him. “Wait! I need a bargaining chip. A way to get things moving in our direction.”

His old eyes narrowed. “What do you suggest?”

“Have you got a set of gateway posts handy?”

He laughed. “An absurd notion. Do you think I have personal access to every sort of critical technology just because I’m a government official?”

“Well… yeah. I think you kind of do.”

Alexander frowned at me. “What would you do with these posts, should they exist?”

I told him, and his frown turned into a sneer—but in the end, he summoned his agents, and they returned with a set of posts.

Then the eerie glow of teleportation began, and I left Russia Sector behind.

-58-

When I first arrived on Ice World, I don’t mind telling you that I was feeling kind of sweaty. That feeling didn’t last long however, as I was soon experiencing frostbite.

I was left standing on the open mountainside just outside the dome. The snows were back with a vengeance out here. The landscape was covered by a full-on sheet of white ice again, and a quiet blizzard of swirling snow fell steadily from above.

Dropping the posts, I worked to pull on my spacer’s suit as fast as I could. Once I was no longer naked, I felt a lot better.

I had to admit, teleporting me directly out here from Earth had been a slick move on Alex’s part. The straps from the table I’d been bound to hadn’t come with me, and I was a free man again. Turov was a wily old goat. He’d never had to release me at all, having just pushed the transmit button and stepped back to watch me exit.

Once I was dressed, I bent down to pick up the posts—but then I had a bad moment.

“Where the hell…?”

The posts were gone. They’d already been buried in the fast-falling snow. I had to shove a gloved hand into the stuff and dig around. By the time I found them and dug them out, I was up to my ankles in snow.

Stumbling and slogging forward, I headed toward the edge of the dome. I walked into the force field and pressed until I reached the far side.

Which of the three mountain passes had I arrived at? I was on the east side, according to my tapper. That was a bad break. I’d kind of planned to try sneaking in through the hole in the southern wall—but that was a ten kilometer hike from here.

Hmm…

My situation wasn’t the best. I wasn’t loved by the Tau, by Squanto, or by Legion Varus. Outside the dome, I might be shot on sight like any human. Inside the dome, I’d be shot the moment they figured out who I was.

Weighing those two unpleasant options, I chose the latter. Since sneaking into the stronghold was out of the question, I figured it was time to talk my way back into the good graces of humanity once again.

Lighting up my tapper, I made a few select calls. Carlos was the only man who answered.

“No fucking way!” he said, putting his fat round face into the viewscreen. “Who did you boff for a revive this time—no scratch that, I don’t want to know.”

“Listen Carlos, I need your help.”

“What a surprise. Tell me McGill, how do you want me to get myself permed today in your honor?”

“Nothing like that. I just need you to take a message to someone.”

Carlos thought that over for a second. “Is it a love note for Squanto? I heard about your attempted plasma-bombing of your biggest hater. Too bad you missed your target.”

“Yeah, yeah… listen: I need you to get me into contact with Claver.”

“That’s easy. There’s like an asshole-parade of those losers right here—”

“No, no, hold on. I need to talk to the Prime. The head Claver.”

Carlos looked surprised. “Are there any of those left?”

“Yes, there surely is at least one of them.”

“Well… where is he?” Carlos asked. “No one has seen him for days. Rumor has it he’s fled the planet and ditched us.”

“That’s a lie. There’s too much money at stake for that. No Claver would run out without taking his stash with him.” I told Carlos where to find Claver, and he grumbled about the snow as he found his way to the bunker in question. After a few minutes of poking around, he whooped and hollered.

“Claver!” I shouted from Carlos’ tapper. “Claver—don’t kill him!”

A craggy, calculating face came into view. It was the prime that ran this world.

“What are you doing on this pug’s tapper, McGill? Are you two lovebirds doing this for kicks? If so, you’re about to see my boys tear him apart and piss on his remains.”

“Hold on, sir. If you do that, you’ll never get your coins off this frozen rock.”

Claver looked troubled. He snarled and gnashed his teeth. But in the end, the tug of greed was too strong.

“Damn you. I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what the hell are you talking about, boy?”

I told him, and I showed him the gateway posts. His ugly face lit up with delight. “You did good, boy! I never would have believed it, but you did good!”

“That’s right. We’re all escaping from here with our wealth intact. All you have to do is get me in through the east gate—”

“The east gate? What are you doing out there?”

I shook my head. “We all have to have our secrets, sir. Do you want these posts or don’t you?”

He grumbled, but he relented at last. He sent out a company of his men to collect me. While I waited, I covered up my tapper. I didn’t want Graves or some MP to notice I’d returned to Ice World—not yet, anyway.

The Clavers brought an extra black uniform for me. Forced into the too-small outfit, I hunched and walked in a crouch with this pack of apes. The Claver captain informed the humans at the wall we were patrolling the land at the edge of the dome, and they let us back in. They were shaking their heads, no doubt thinking Clavers were all crazy as shit-house rats.

Once inside the fortress, I stayed with the company until they marched near a certain unmarked bunker. There, I broke free of the rest of them and walked down the puff-crete coated steps.

At the base of the steps, I found Carlos dead on the floor. I put my hands on my hips and straightened up, tossing aside my piss-poor excuse for a disguise.

“Claver, dammit! Why’d you have to go and kill Carlos?”

The prime walked up and eyed the corpse. “Ortiz is like a stain on another man’s shoe… irritating.”

“Yeah… well… you’re right about that. Just have your goons drag him upstairs and leave him in the snow. His tapper will signal the network, and he’ll catch a revive eventually.”

“You sure you don’t want to leave him permed? He’s been trouble for you for years, boy.”

“Come on, do you want these posts or not?”

Claver eyed me evilly, but he soon gave up. He and I both knew he was a man of his word, and he’d promised not to harm me while I was helping him out. Every wheeler-dealer like him knew you couldn’t burn everyone. Good agents were hard to find, and I’d just proven myself invaluable.

We set up the posts, and they glowed into life.

“These are an odd make,” Claver remarked. “Where’d you get them?”

“I got them on an auction site—what do you care? Do you want to keep your half of the coins or not?”

“I surely do. Where are these posts linked to? We can’t switch the settings on these things.

“Dust World,” I lied smoothly.

He smiled and laughed. “Of course. The go-to spot for all human criminals on the run.”

I smiled back. “All right then, I’ll just go get Graves and tell him we’re leaving—”

I didn’t make it two steps up the staircase before every Claver in the place had put a weapon in my face. “Uh… what’s this?”

The Prime looked apologetic, but he didn’t lower his gun. “Look, James, I agreed to let you out of this alive. That was the deal.”

“What about your deal with Earth? With Graves? What about our half of the coins?”

“That was a military alliance that didn’t work out. The entire agreement is null and void as far as I’m concerned. Graves was supposed to chase off the Tau, and he failed. The bears and their Tau troops have beaten us here on Ice World, it’s only a matter of time until they take us all out.”

I laughed bitterly. “That’s how you work deals, huh? Very cynical of you, sir.”

Claver shrugged. His minions pushed me out of the way, and they walked through the posts in a hurry. He didn’t take many men with him, just enough to carry the crates of gold coins.

When they’d gone, I walked outside to see what was up.

All around me, men and dumb Clavers were craning their necks, looking up at the sky in confusion and fear.

The dome was gone. Claver had turned it off as he left. The fortress in the ice was doomed to fall, and soon.

“Shit…” I said aloud.

My tapper lit up the second I unwrapped it. There were red, angry words printed on it. Graves had noticed I was alive again, and he didn’t seem to be in a congratulatory mood.

In the distance, I saw artillery fire. All around the fortress, salvos rose up from every direction on the compass.

The enemy had noticed the dome was down. It hadn’t taken them long to react. The invasion ships had all fired their weapons, targeting the center of this frozen valley. The incoming warheads were beautiful, in a way, like seeing a thousand shooting stars at once.

Thinking things over right-quick, I did a U-turn. I closed every door behind me as I walked down into the underground bunker, and I found the gateway posts were still there, but they were crackling and sparking.

Were those bastards disconnecting the power on the far side? It was my impression that they were. That meant there wasn’t much time left.

Without another thought, I stepped through.

-59-

When I stepped out of the gateway posts I found myself on the Turov family estate. The sun was high in the sky, and it looked like we were inside a greenhouse of some kind. Exotic plants were everywhere.

Most of the Clavers were dead on the rich black soil under my boots. But a few of them—most notably the Prime—were still kicking.

“Hey, hey!” I shouted at Turov’s circle of guards. They were gunning down the sad sack Claver-Threes who dropped their crates of coins and were left crawling and dying on the dirt. I counted three dead guards on their side, which might have been why Turov’s men were in such a bad mood.

“That’s not neighborly!” I complained. “Lay off these boys. They brought you a fortune after all, didn’t they?”

Hearing my voice, the prime twisted up his head to look at me. He was half-hiding under a dead Claver-Three, using his bigger brother for a body-shield. “Forget it, McGill. No one is getting my coins—nobody!”

“Now, now,” I said, leaning over him and putting my hands on my knees. “You should try to remember yourself, sir. Try to think of where you are.”

Claver gave me a vile look. It was full of rage and reproach. “You did this, didn’t you? This was all part of your grand plan to rob me. You set me up and got me to step into this trap. I’ve got half a mind to blow all these coins to hell and back!”

He fumbled for his tapper, and I felt I had to take action. I stepped forward two long strides and crushed his wrist flat with a size thirteen boot.

He cursed and tried to stick a knife in my shin, but I slapped that away. “Get ahold of yourself, I’m trying to help out.”

He glared at me like a cat in a washing machine, but at least he shut up.

When the estate guards were done abusing the dumber Clavers, old Alexander himself finally made an appearance. He peeped out from behind a burly man with a carbine beamer in his hands.

“McGill…?” he said. “You have returned my wealth as promised. I’m impressed.”

“Damn straight I did.”

“You bastard!” Claver squawked from the floor. He was still hiding under his dead brother.

I toed the corpse he was hiding under. “Come on out of there, buddy. Don’t be shy. No one is going to shoot you today—right?” I looked meaningfully toward Alexander, who slanted his head forward. It wasn’t quite a nod, but I took the gesture as a confirmation.

After a bit of cajoling, the Claver-Prime stood with his hands held high. He spat on the back of one of his dead brothers and bared his teeth. “This won’t go well for you two in the end. Thieves are thieves, and where I come from, they all end up permed or worse.”

Alexander seemed amused. “What might be worse than permadeath?”

“Pray you don’t find out.”

“The point is moot in any case. I didn’t steal these coins—they belong to me.”

Claver sputtered at that. “What nonsense. You took them from the Galactics. No human is allowed to possess hard currency like this.”

“Why then, merchant vagabond, did you work so hard to possess them?” Alexander asked.

Claver hesitated for a second, but only a second. He was good. I’d wager the man could make up a solid lie while he was falling down a flight of stairs in a gunnysack. “I was taking them to the Galactics,” he said. “This is all their property. You realize that, don’t you? They’ll count it, you know. They’ll count it all. If any of it is missing there’ll be hell to pay.”

Alexander nodded thoughtfully. He was an old, wise dude. I found it kind of freaky to be around someone who was so ancient and tricky. I had no idea what he was thinking. It was a bit unnerving to tell the truth.

“The coins were mine before you took them, Claver. Now that you’ve returned them, our disagreement is at an end.”

Claver squinted at the old man. He cocked his head and looked surprised. “Alex Turov? Is that really you, Alex?”

Turov nodded. “Yes. It’s a been a long time.”

“Damn… how you’ve aged. Looks like you haven’t had a revive in a long time. You should get yourself killed or something. You know, freshen up.”

“Perhaps I will, but I find the process unpleasant. I try to avoid such experiences as much as possible.”

Claver laughed. “Is dying worse than getting old? Well… to each his own, I guess. Personally, I think I’d drown myself if I ever made it to fifty by some wild chance.”

Alexander snorted and smiled.

Watching the two of them, I had to wonder how old they really were. They’d both met before, that much was clear. How long ago had that been? A century? Two?

Claver made a sweeping gesture toward the heap of death on the ground. “What about restitution? How are you going to compensate me for all this spilled blood and lost money?”

“Absurd. You stole my money—”

“Liberated it, you mean! It’s illegal for your kind to possess this cash.”

Turov waved away his words as if they stank. “It’s equally illegal for you to possess them. Your point is nullified.”

“Well… you traded them to me for valuable resources.”

“Yes, one box perhaps. But you’ve stolen ten times that much. Once you saw which vault contained the treasure, you returned to take it all!”

“That’s because you shorted me with counterfeits! Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

They wrangled on like that for a time. To be honest, I could see both points of view to a degree. When I grew tired of the bickering, I stepped back into the conversation.

“Ladies, ladies,” I said, “this is getting us nowhere. How about you hand over to Claver the sum you originally were contracted to pay him, and he leaves you the rest?”

“What of interest payments?” Turov complained. “And damage to property? These guards don’t come cheap, you know.”

“Neither do mine,” Claver said.

The wrangling went on, but at last, the two old buzzards agreed to the terms I’d laid out. Claver walked out with a crate of his coins being carried by a single Claver-Three—the last man alive. I felt a bit sorry for the guy, as he was lung-shot and wheezing badly. His master didn’t even offer to help carry the crate or patch him up, so I gave the poor man a hand.

“What are you up to?” Claver demanded, eyeing me with suspicion. “Are you dipping into my last box of cash?”

“No, sir. The box is sealed tight, see?” I tugged experimentally on the lid.

Claver grumbled, but he let me help him and his clone into an aircar. When they lifted off, he gave me a wave with his middle finger as he drifted up into the sky.

“Ungrateful sour-puss,” I said, putting a hand up to shield my eyes and staring upward.

Old man Alexander came walking up behind me with his hands buried in his robes. He had a pack of armed guards with him. He eyed me coldly. “Let’s see the coins, McGill.”

I sputtered and denied everything, but at last I revealed the six I’d managed to palm from Claver’s box.

The old man considered the coins, but after a moment, he tossed them back at me. “It’s a small payment for your services.”

“Thank you, Mr. Servant, sir. That’s mighty thoughtful.”

“Your heirs will find it useful, no doubt. Funerals can be expensive—even if the casket is empty.”

I blinked at him a few times before I caught his meaning. “Aw now, hold on! What’s this about? We had a deal, didn’t we?”

“Yes, we did. This isn’t related to the coins. It’s related to my daughter. I sense in her an unusual emotion when the topic of James McGill is mentioned. I don’t like attachments of this kind—those I find distasteful.”

“What? Seriously? You don’t like me? Not even a little bit?”

Alexander smirked with his old, paper-thin lips. “I do actually find you amusing. But that isn’t a good enough reason to entangle my DNA with yours.”

At this point, I have to confess, my mind was filling with violent thoughts. There were six guards with him, and they were armed while I wasn’t. Still… most of them weren’t even aiming their guns at me. They thought they had me in hand.

Turov cocked his head as I stared in his direction. “You’re plotting my death, aren’t you? Like a cornered animal… intriguing.”

“Uh…”

“All right. I’ll give you a chance. Tell me something profound. Tell me why I should be impressed with you, as I have never been impressed with any male suitor of one of my daughters in the past.”

“Uh…”

My mind was a blank slate for several seconds. I’d been thinking about going berserk and killing one or two of these goons. With luck, I might even manage to get my hands on that skinny old throat and squeeze. Stranger things have happened.

Shifting mental gears, I stared down at the grass for a moment. At last, I nodded.

“There are certain things, sir, of which you might not be aware.”

Alexander crossed his arms. “Try me. I keep a tight rein on this ship of state. Nothing of significance should happen on Earth or in the Heavens above her without my knowledge.”

I reached up a hand and scratched the back of my neck. I’d been sworn not to talk about certain delicate matters, but this was a man in a position of real power. A man who could make or break a legion like mine—or me.

“Sir, how about the rest of these men piss off? The things I have to say can’t be spoken in the presence of others.”

He snorted. “You want us to be alone, do you? With me at your tender mercies?”

“Well sir, you’re already in my range and breathing at my sufferance.”

He squinted. “What? Nonsense—”

Quick as a cat, I snapped my arm forward—the one I’d been using to scratch at the back of my overly-long neck. A blade shot out and caught the left guard in the head. It was a bad shot, unclean. I’d aimed for the eye socket, but I nailed him in the bridge of the nose instead. Fortunately, as the edge was molecularly aligned and crazy-sharp, it punched through the skull and killed him anyway. I’d picked it up from one of the dead Clavers while I was riffling the crate for coins.

“See?” I said unhelpfully.

It took a lot of shouting and wild gesturing for Alexander to control his goons after that. They were all dead-set on plugging me for murdering their buddy.

At last, he ordered them to withdraw. They walked away, all sullen and cursing and casting evil glances over their shoulders at me.

When they finally retreated, just the old man and I stood on a grassy hill where the aircars were supposed to land.

“I have to admit, that was impressive,” he said. “Now that we’re alone, will you tell me whatever it is that you think is so important? Or is this all a ruse to commit murder? If so, I must warn you, I’ll be back to life before you.”

“Well sir, I’ve got some important knowledge—but I’m not supposed to say it. I’m sworn not to, in fact.”

“Interesting… As a Senior Public Servant of Earth, a person of extreme importance and the highest authority possible on this planet, I give you permission to speak. No, I’ll go further than that. You’ve intrigued me now, so I order you to speak.”

Heaving a sigh, I decided to tell him a sordid tale. I told him about the day I’d been killed and sent to Trantor. I described the skies, the flying metal walkways, the boring décor. I wasn’t certain he’d never heard of my visit, but by the look on his face, I could tell he hadn’t.

“A trillion of them?” he asked in amazement. “We’re hopeless, then. A single Mogwa planet so teeming with life… they rule over thousands of stars. They must outnumber us a billion to one…”

“Hold on, that’s another thing. They only really have one planet, see.”

That interested him, so I told him more. I ended with the story of how I returned to Earth, perming Xlur and escaping with a bullshit suicide note.

By the end of the tale, Alexander wasn’t able to close his mouth properly—or so it seemed to me.

“You killed the rightful governor of Province 921? Permanently?”

“Uh… yessir. Didn’t you ever wonder why he never came back out here?”

“But the Nairbs… they’ll figure it out. They’ll come for you eventually. They’ll come for all of us!”

I held up one huge palm, cutting off a storm of accusations and misunderstandings.

“All that’s already happened, sir. Remember that business with our Moon being a Skay and all?”

“How could I forget?”

“Well sir, Nox came out here on a witch-hunt back then. She’d figured out we killed Xlur see—”

“You mean that you killed Xlur.”

I shrugged. “To a Galactic it’s all one and the same. If one human performs a heinous crime, we’re all guilty.”

“Right, right. Continue.”

“So anyways, after I talked to her, she pretty much forgave us for the same reasons that Sateekas did. Xlur wasn’t much liked back on Trantor, you understand.”

“Why wasn’t I told any of this? And what proof do you have?”

I decided to skip the first question, as the answer had largely to do with the choices of his sneaky daughter. I’d learned long ago that you never ratted out a powerful man’s kid, no matter how much they deserved it. Instead, I answered his second question by paging through the archives on my tapper and playing a few choice recordings. I’ve found over the years that recording critical moments did wonders when it came to convincing people that incredible events were real.

After he reviewed my vids, old Alex was left dumbstruck. He stopped talking to me—he stopped responding at all. He seemed to be lost in thought.

I talked on for a time, making a few lame jokes and trying to improve his mood—but he ignored me.

Then without warning, he snapped his saggy, skinny neck straight again and pointed a finger like a crooked pencil into my face.

“You will obey me now McGill, or everything you know will cease to be. Your parents, your friends, your legion—all of it. Are you listening, Centurion?”

“Uh… yessir.”

Actually, I was already having more violent thoughts, but I tried to look contrite and cowed.

Alexander watched me for a moment, and he seemed convinced. He was a man who was used to getting his way, so he accepted it when people acted like sheep in his presence. “Good. Now, here’s what I want you to do…”

-60-

When I arrived on the roof of Central in an aircar, a dozen hog gunmen rushed out to surround the vehicle. They were all sneers and jeers, but I took their bad manners in stride.

“Hey boys, I brought you guys some Christmas presents.”

So saying, I threw open the lid of the trunk. It was quite a roomy trunk, and inside were several boxes overflowing with golden Galactic credits.

They’d all pointed their weapons at me when I’d opened the trunk, but once they saw the gleam of real money, their mouths hung low.

“You’re James McGill?” the head hog asked me.

“That’s right. Centurion James McGill of Legion Varus.”

The hog walked close, and I noticed he had a pair of gravity cuffs in his hands. “McGill, we’ve got a warrant for your arrest. You’re also listed as dishonorably discharged from the legions. Now, about this cash—I really hope for your sake you’re not trying to bribe your way out of this. You’re already up on a long list of government charges.”

“I’m sure you have the best of intentions, hog, but I don’t need your sympathy. Not today. Take a look in the backseat of this flying limo.”

The hog snapped on the cuffs, and I made no effort to resist. Curious, he walked to the backdoors and flung them open.

Inside were more boxes of coins. The hogs behind him leaned close. There were whispers and gasps.

“This money… it doesn’t look legal.”

“Careful now,” I admonished him. “You don’t want to be telling a Public Servant he’s in the wrong.”

“A Public…?”

Right then, old Alexander Turov climbed out of the other side of the aircar and eyed them all sternly. He wore his robes and the signet ring of a high official. The hogs melted away from his approach.

Only the hog captain had the balls to say anything. He scanned the ring and the man’s tapper. His face turned ashen when the report came back on his own tapper.

“You’re… you’re really Alexander Turov? The Public Servant?”

“That’s right, hog!” I hooted. “You’d better stand down in a hurry.”

The hog captain swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, sir. I had no idea you were coming. Usually, when VIPs fly in to Central, we’re given advance notice.”

“Today is a different day,” old Alexander told him. “Unlock McGill’s bonds. All of you, grab a box of coins. We must carry these to the council chambers.”

“Uh… but sir… can’t I at least tell someone you’re coming?”

“No. You are not permitted to alert your masters. Snap inspections are, by nature, surprises to everyone.”

“Ah… yessir.” The hog seemed to understand at last. This was a surprise visit, and the target of the visitation wasn’t him.

He seemed almost happy as he removed my bonds and urged all the hogs to pick up a box. He no longer gave two shits about me. He was relieved to know that somebody else was going to be sweating today.

We all marched into the building and rode an elevator to the big conference room. A sign posted outside said meeting in progress. Primus Bob almost had a conniption as we marched past him—but he didn’t try to stop us or warn Drusus. A brown-noser like him knew who had the most influential ass in town, and it was definitely parked under Turov’s robes today.

The doors to the meeting chamber were locked, but a touch from Turov’s ring made them fly open. I realized right then that the ring was functional, not just a signet of the office. It worked like the Galactic key, but on human locks rather than Imperial tech.

Beaming and carrying a box of my own, I marched into a monstrous conference room right behind Servant Turov. It was kind of fun, and I was grinning big.

A dozen figures circled a table. Most of them were brass—imperators and tribunes. There were even two Praetors, and they were in charge. I even recognized Drusus among the crowd.

One additional figure, however, stood out from the rest. That was Governess Nox. She had a retinue of Nairbs with her, and they were looking prissy and taking notes, as usual.

“What is the meaning—?” Praetor Wurtenberger demanded, standing up and staring. But he fell quiet when he saw Alexander Turov walking in.

“Servant?” Drusus asked. “To what do we owe this honor? Ah… are those boxes full of coins?”

“Indeed they are. McGill, deposit the coins there.”

Old Alexander directed me to place the boxes near the Nairbs, and I did so with a flourish. The flappy green aliens scowled and peered at me. Some of them sniffed the boxes experimentally.

“What is the purpose of this intrusion?” the Chief Inspector Nairb asked.

I recognized the green snot-bag. He’d been squirming around under Nox’s skirt for years. The last time we’d met up, he’d accused me of every crime he could dream up and then some.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Nox said, “these animals are delivering tribute to the Empire. Is this correct?”

Wurtenberger eyed Drusus, who eyed the servant in turn. None of them seemed to want to speak up first, so I jumped in.

“That’s the honest truth, Governess Nox. We went and fetched your lost coins, and now we’re here to deliver them.”

Nox slowly unwound herself from her seat at the council table—which was really more of a cushioned stool with a high back on it—and she approached the crates with an odd, wobbling gait. Like all Mogwa, she couldn’t walk straight. She couldn’t resist a big pile of money, either.

“Lady Nox,” the Chief Nairb squawked. “Perhaps we should test the box for danger. These humans are as untrustworthy as they are ignorant.”

Nox paused and looked at him. “Very well. You open it.”

Shocked, the Nairb approached the box with great trepidation. At last, he opened the first one—and everyone gasped in amazement.

The coins were in there all right, and they glittered like a thousand diamonds in firelight.

“Assist me!” the Nairb ordered.

Instantly, a flock of green humping seals approached. The cluster of Nairbs began nosing each coin and touching them with strange instruments.

I stood there and beamed, proud as a peacock.

“How’s this for service, sirs?” I asked the brass who were standing now and craning their necks to get a glimpse of a planet’s ransom. “When you send old McGill out to do a job,” I boasted, “it gets done.”

“McGill,” Drusus said, speaking up for the first time, “I’m at a loss. You did this personally? The reports coming back from Dominus don’t contain any information about the coins. The expedition has been deemed an entire loss. Everyone on the ground—most of Legion Varus—was destroyed by the Tau-Rigellian alliance.”

“Oh… is that so? That’s a damned shame… but at least we’re all rich, huh?”

“Correction,” Governess Nox said. “We’re not all rich. These coins don’t belong to Earth. No human is even allowed to possess them. They’re being confiscated by the Empire. I’ll return them to Trantor personally for safekeeping.”

I gawked at her. “All of them?”

“Yes, of course. Galactic Law must be followed.”

Right about then, the Nairbs started seal-barking at each other. They seemed agitated.

“Lady Nox?” the Chief Inspector asked.

“What is it now, Inspector?”

“Ah… Governess, I have grim news to report. I’m afraid these coins aren’t genuine.”

Nox turned on him. “What are you talking about?”

The Nairb backed up a bit, then he braced himself and stood his ground. “Just as I said, Lady. They are counterfeit. False. Non-negotiable. They appear to be of Imperial make, but they’re not.”

“Aw, come on now!” I interjected. “You can’t tell that just by sniffing at them.”

“Of course not. Each Galactic credit piece—particularly those of high denominational value—is marked with a nano-stamp indicating its time and place of manufacture.”

“So… the markings on these are wrong?” Nox asked.

“No. They’re absent entirely. These coins are fake. They have no value.”

Everyone started squawking again. The human officers, the Nairbs—everyone.

Nobody was happy to learn the coins were fake. Even I put on a big show of shock and dismay. My chin sagged so low it hit my collarbone.

Nox soon demanded that other crates be opened and inspected. This was done—but the story was the same. Every coin was counterfeit garbage.

All the while I pretended to be astonished. “What is this? Who could be behind this chicanery?”

This statement caught the attention of the lead Nairb. He’d never liked me, and today’s events hadn’t endeared me to his heart.

“You humans did this. These false coins are made poorly with base metals—there’s not even a hint of radiation coming off them.”

“So you’re really telling me these aren’t legit, genuine Galactic credits? That’s a damned shame. And to think we dumb-ass apes have been trading these around for years…”

“That is a tremendous admission!” the Nairb Chief Inspector squawked. “Galactic credits aren’t legal currency for humans. An expungement is called for!”

“Hold on,” I interrupted. “I understand your zeal, good Inspector, but I must point out that if these credits are fake, no crime has been committed. You just proved that. The only illegality was a case of fraud perpetrated upon our own citizens.”

The Nairb squirmed. “Intent to commit an infraction can be judged tantamount to an actual infraction.”

Nox snorted at this. It came out sounding like a nose-fart.

“No, it can’t,” she said. “You are in error. There was no crime, therefore there can’t be a criminal or a case to prosecute.”

“These are special circumstances,” the Nairb insisted. “A full investigation is warranted. We will find the crime to match this indignity.”

“No, you won’t. Not on my budget—which was just slashed to the bone by this debacle.”

Nox marched around in a circle. She was in an evil mood, and every human she came near backed away in concern.

“This is typical. Absolutely typical. You humans are nothing but imbeciles. I should never have believed there was a fortune in real money out here in this forsaken dumpster of a province. I was the biggest fool of all to believe that fantasy.”

No one spoke. We all figured it was a good time to not stand out in this crowd.

After a full circuit of the table, Nox paused long enough to squirt some kind of vile liquid from her aft body parts onto the cases of gleaming coins. I didn’t even want to know what that substance was.

“Chief Inspector, come. Attend me. We’re returning to the ship.”

The Chief Nairb fumed, but at last he retreated and followed his sulking governess. They soon left the building and Earth entirely. Their dreams of riches had evaporated as quickly as they’d come.

-61-

All too often poor old McGill was blamed after disastrous events like these. Today might have gone in that direction, save for the kind words of Public Servant Alexander Turov.

With a few commands from the boss man, I was reinstated in Legion Varus at my previous rank. There were to be no reprisals or charges related to this recent debacle—he made that very clear, and Drusus listened.

The experience left me impressed at how much sway old Alexander held over the top leaders at Central. Being the chairman of the Hegemony military expenditures committee… well sir, when it’s all said and done, the man in charge of the government purse strings is as important to the brass as the Almighty himself.

It wasn’t all roses and lilacs for me, naturally. Dominus returned to Earth orbit about a month later, and there were a fair number of officers aboard who weren’t thrilled to hear that McGill was alive and well. They fussed and carried on about nonsense accusations. They claimed I’d caused countless human deaths and Blood Worlder permings. I shrugged it all off as nothing but sour grapes, but they were persistent.

As the days went by, I grew tired of listening to the bitter grumblings of Graves and Winslade. The moment I was demobilized I headed back home. They’d pretty much driven me out of town with their bad attitudes.

Southern Georgia in the fall was a glory to behold. I drank beer on my porch, played cards with my parents and chased skirts down at the local bars in Waycross. One fine evening when the crickets were out and chirping for mates, I sat under the stars on my porch. I’d struck out at the local bar, but I didn’t mind. It was as fine a night as I could remember.

Around ten-thirty when I was thinking about going to bed, a light in the sky caught my attention. Normally, a passing aircar wouldn’t concern a man like myself. They were becoming more common every year, and they rarely came near my slice of the swamp anyway.

This time, however, the vehicle began to spiral around our property. I frowned out from under my porch roof, and I told the house to turn the lights off.

As if in answer to this move, the aircar did the same. The dark vehicle came gliding closer and landed quietly out in the bog.

Hmm… I didn’t like that. The Tau, after all, might still have a bone to pick with me and mine. They’d never quite forgiven any of us for making their coins vanish during the sacking of Gelt Station, so long ago. Perhaps they weren’t fooled by news that the coins were all counterfeit because they knew better…

Standing up and putting a hand behind me to stop the rocking chair from creaking, I moved quick as a cat to grab my shotgun. It wasn’t just a regular shotgun, either. It was a tactical assault model that fired slugs hard enough to kill a Rigellian bear with the shock of impact—right through his impenetrable armor.

I left my door open and slinked away to the far side of my shack. Out there in the tall weeds, I waited quietly.

Eventually, I heard footsteps. It didn’t sound like an army of Tau at least. If it was, they were being as quiet as mice.

Coming around the corner of my shack, I saw a single small figure on my doorstep. It craned its neck to look inside the open door, taking the bait I’d set. Could it be a Tau? The general dimensions were right.

I racked a shell and aimed. My finger was on the trigger when I heard a familiar voice.

“James? Is that you?”

It was Galina. I sucked in a deep breath and tried to shake off my tension—or at least hide it. I’d been about to blow her pretty can right off my porch—but she didn’t need to know that.

Casually, I slid the shotgun to the ground and walked into view from the back of the shack. I told the robot minder to turn the lights on, and by that time I’d managed to change my killer’s mask of determination into a welcoming smile.

“What are you doing back there? Why is everything so dark?”

“Huh?” I asked. “Oh… I was just taking a piss. The toilet is backed up, see.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll fix it for you if you need to go.”

She stood on the porch, blinking in the yellowy light. “This feels strange. Maybe I should go.”

“Aw, come on. You just got here. Let me show you the new bottle of wine I picked up in Europe.”

“Wine? What vintage?”

“Uh…”

I was bullshitting about the wine, of course. Galina liked wine, and it was an easy dodge. The only kind of wine I bought out here in Georgia tasted like diesel with fruit in it.

“Come on in, and I’ll show you.”

She hesitated, so I brushed past her and walked into the place. I ignored her, using the tiny slice of time I had as efficiently as I could. The place was a mess, but it wasn’t at its worst. I’d entertained hopes of bringing a lady home tonight, after all—I just hadn’t counted on one as pretty as this.

Galina watched me from the doorway, and at last she sighed. She stepped in and sat on the couch.

“It’s been a long time since I came here.”

“Years.”

“Where’s that wine?”

I made a show of rummaging around in the kitchen, then suddenly straightened and snapped my fingers. “Damn. I forgot. I let my parents drink it for their anniversary. How about a beer instead?”

She pouted a little, but she took the beer bottle when I offered it. Soon, we were sipping and talking in the quiet night. I leaned in to kiss her, but she evaded.

“James, we have to talk.”

“Huh? What about?”

“About you and I. Tonight is a different night. I don’t know how I feel about it…”

“Uh…” I said, utterly baffled. When women started talking about complicated feelings, I had trouble listening at all much less comprehending what they were saying. Accordingly, I did my best to shut up and let her talk. It was my only defense.

Galina stood up and walked around a little, pacing on my crappy throw rugs and creaky floorboards. I liked that, as her figure was pretty near perfect. Her hips were hypnotizing when they were in motion.

“It’s about my father,” she said. “He’s… he’s spoken to me about you. This has never happened before.”

“It hasn’t?”

“No—not like this.”

I began to get a creepy feeling. Had that old buzzard told Galina of our joint shenanigans? Had he alerted her to the true nature of our mutual arrangement to rip off the Tau and the Galactics in favor of her family’s personal fortune? Not knowing which way to jump, I sat stock-still and watched her in silence. I didn’t even take a pull from my beer.

At last, her attention shifted away, and she began pacing again. I took the opportunity to drain my bottle and replace it with a fresh one.

Galina sighed. “Father told me that you impressed him. He said you’re a good man—a good man for me.”

I hadn’t known what I’d expected her to say, but this sure as hell wasn’t it. “Really? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

She stopped pacing and looked at me seriously. “I really don’t know. I can’t believe it, actually. He doesn’t like anyone near his daughters. He never has. That’s one of the reasons I left Europe and got myself stationed on the other side of the planet.”

I thought about how her father had gotten her sister killed and a few of the wedding party permed for good measure just to get rid of that fiancé fellow. It did seem likely he was a man who held his daughters’ suitors in low regard.

“I can hardly believe it either,” I said. “I don’t recall any father ever saying he liked me. Not now, not back in my school days… never.”

“I know! It’s so strange. He never liked anyone I brought home as a kid. He’s never been impressed by anyone that I can remember. He hates and despises most people reflexively. What can it mean that such a man actually likes you?”

Now, at last, I knew what I had to do. I stood up and approached her with a gentle touch on the shoulder and a warm smile.

“Listen,” I said. “It doesn’t matter to me what that old buzzard thinks. I do what I want, and I don’t care how it’s judged by anyone. You should do the same—in fact, you usually do.”

“Yes… you’re right. I don’t know why I care. I shouldn’t care.”

She was staring off into space, and my hand was lingering on her shoulder. I thought about making another grab for her, but I sensed the timing would be off.

Giving her shoulder the lightest of squeezes, I removed my hand and found another beer. When I got it out of the fridge, I walked out onto the porch. Less than a minute later, Galina joined me.

“It’s a nice night,” she said. “Not too hot or cold.”

“Sure is. What are you going to do?”

She leaned against a post and gazed at the stars. “That nightmare scenario on Ice World… it damaged my career. I lost my rank, James.”

“Oh… you mean, you’re not an imperator now?”

“No. I was demoted again to tribune. I’m… I’m commanding Legion Varus again.”

“Oh shit…”

“Yes, exactly. All my hard work was for nothing. It also didn’t help that you killed Foam and left that spot open for me to fall into.”

“Yeah, but it’s not my fault. I killed him because he was after you, remember? And I killed Fike for the same reason.”

Galina turned away from the cold, cruel stars and the ugly dead Skay we called the Moon. “Yes. I’m grateful for that. Maybe my father read the reports. Maybe he likes you for exactly that reason. No one in the legion considers you a hero, you know. But for me, you are my hero.”

She sat next to me on the swing then, and I slid my arm around her. We drank beer and when the time was right, we made love.

Galina seemed troubled and full of weighty thoughts, but I was in an entirely different state of mind. I’d come close to the flame, but I hadn’t been burned.

Not this time.

THE END

Thanks Reader! I hope you enjoyed ICE WORLD the sixteenth book in the Undying Mercenaries Series. If you liked the book and want to read more, please put up some stars and a review to support the series. Let me know what kind of world you’d like McGill to discover next!

-BVL

More SF Books by B. V. Larson:

The Undying Mercenaries Series:

Steel World

Dust World

Tech World

Machine World

Death World

Home World

Rogue World

Blood World

Dark World

Storm World

Armor World

Clone World

Glass World

Edge World

Green World

Ice World

The Star Runner Series:

Star Runner

Fire Fight

Rebel Fleet Series:

Rebel Fleet

Orion Fleet

Alpha Fleet

Earth Fleet

Star Force Series:

Swarm

Extinction

Rebellion

Conquest

Army of One (Novella)

Battle Station

Empire

Annihilation

Storm Assault

The Dead Sun

Outcast

Exile

Demon Star

Starship Pandora (Audio Drama)

Visit BVLarson.com for more information.